


Ghost Town

by Skullszeyes



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Psychopaths, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Anti-Hero, Bisexuality, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood Magic, Boys Kissing, Dark, Death, Drug Use, Drugs, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Elemental Magic, Explicit Sexual Content, Flash Fic, Fluff, Friendship, Horror, Insomnia, Jealousy, Kissing, Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Murderers, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Romance, Platonic Soulmates, Possessive Behavior, Psychological Horror, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Psychopaths In Love, Psychosis, Reader-Insert, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Rough Kissing, Sexual Content, Sickfic, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stalking, Suicidal Thoughts, Survival Horror, Suspense, Unrequited, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-07-02 17:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 31,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Flowers grow in dead corpses, among dry roads, between shattered glass, and inside the weary wood of old houses in an empty town. Echoed laughter, and blood crackling to pieces that blow in the wind. Rusted steel, and forgotten names. The regret is heavy, and ones heart bleeds from it. The dead sleep, but the souls rise, and where they go is a place that doesn't exist. And in turn, they don't either.— A collection of stories.





	1. Interaction Experiment #1 • h2ovanoss

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. I prev. deleted this cause I was having an existential crisis. :/ I usually have those a few times a month.  
> Anyway, this is a collection of stories I'll be writing. Each chapter will be different, some will be happy, sad, dark, light. Depends really. :)
> 
> I hope the tags don't scare anyone. I heard a lot of tags do that to people. I'm just warning you what I'm going to write in the individual chapters. :D
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanoss and Delirious have a dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only makes sense to write Vanoss and Delirious first, right? :) 
> 
> WARNING: Short. Platonic. Humor. Friendships. Mild swearing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

"I want to sound like you,” Vanoss said, staring at Delirious from across the room.

Delirious looked up from his phone. “You want to sound like me?”

“Yeah. I want to sound like you?”

Delirious chuckled, abandoning his phone on the couch. He sauntered over to Vanoss who was staring at himself in the mirror. “You want to sound like Delirious!” Pushing him over so he can look himself in the mirror.

Vanoss scowled, shoving Delirious out of the way, “Yes. Stop repeating everything I say.”

“You’re the one that wants to sound like me.”

“I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem,” Wildcat interrupted. He stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and holding a can of beer, “you both sound fucking stupid.”

Vanoss laughed, shoving Delirious again. “Hey, I do sound like you.”

Delirious laughed with him. “Fuck you. I’m not stupid.”


	2. pretty and wrecked • krii7y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyroz learns that Smii7y has no idea what he's supposed to do, but it's okay, it was Kryoz's idea in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still wondering why they're shipped together, but oh wells. I wrote a fic of them. :) 
> 
> WARNING: Short. Boys kissing. Platonic/Romantic. Intimate. Mild swearing. Fluff. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

It wasn’t his idea, or maybe it was. That didn’t matter, all that did mattered was that Smii7y was pressed against the wall, hidden in the alcove of their base. The others were wandering around, but none have come close in catching them, and he made sure this side of the room was dark.

Smii7y was currently glaring at him, unsure of what they were doing. He hadn’t told him exactly what they were doing, but from the way he had pushed him against the wall, and hadn’t moved since. He knew Smii7y knew what was going to happen, and he said something that surprised him. “I never done this before.”

Kryoz arched a brow, smiling in the dark. “You haven’t kissed anyone?”

Smii7y’s glare deepened, he was silent for a second and said, “No, that’s not it.”

“It’s obviously it, Smii7y. Just shut up and relax, it’s not going to kill you.” Kryoz moved closer, and he heard Smii7y suck in an intake of air.

“My heart might. It’s beating pretty hard in my chest.”

He liked that he got Smii7y this bothered, that even how much he was glaring, he wasn’t moving away. “You’re just nervous.” And before he or Smii7y could chicken out, he leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. It was an awful kiss, he had pushed Smii7y’s head back against the wall, and Smii7y complained, an annoyed sound made Kryoz turn his head, getting in a better position to kiss Smii7y without changing his mind.

A sound made him back up and look over his shoulder. Wildcat and Vanoss walked by, but they hadn’t entered the room, nor even looked inside. When he sighed in relief, he turned back to see Smii7y blinking a few times.

Kryoz grinned, leaning forward and pressing a long soft kiss, before pulling away. Smii7y followed him, breathing deeply, and when he opened his eyes. Kryoz kissed him again, this time he didn’t bother pulling away, at least not until Smii7y placed his arms loosely around his shoulders, and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.

After awhile, just to catch their breaths, Kryoz chuckled at the way Smii7y leaned his head against his shoulder. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Shut up, John.” The rough sound of his voice made Kryoz feel things. He cupped Smii7y’s jaw and he looked at him with a wrecked, longing gaze. Kryoz placed his thumb against his bottom lip, pulling slightly.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Kryoz whispered.

Smii7y lips pulled into a smile. “You’re a fucking sap."

 


	3. If I Win • VanLui

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Lui are at the base alone, and Lui introduces a reward to Evan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Lui were my first ship when I entered the fandom. :) I never really wrote anything romantic between them because nothing really came to mind. However, in most of my fics, I always have them connecting to each other, and Lui being on a pedestal. A sort of nod toward them as my first ship. :D
> 
> WARNING: Underrated ship. Platonic/Romantic. Friendship. Mild swearing. Humor. Boys kissing.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

Evan stormed away, shaking his head. Except he heard the steps growing closer to him, and when it came to a stop, his fingers had curled into a tight fist. He reeled in his rage, and turned around, frowning at his tail.

“Leave me alone.”

Lui arched a brow, but there’s an obvious grin on his face. “Don’t get upset just because everyone left without you. I’m here.”

“That isn’t the point, I wanted to go with them.” Evan didn’t like staying in one place all the time, and he was holed up in the base for several days. He needed fresh air for once.

“So,” Lui said, shrugging his shoulders. “Doesn’t change the fact that Nogla and everyone else is gone besides the both of us. Entertain me or I’m going to continue to annoy you.”

He couldn’t believe how dramatic Lui was being. He didn’t expect him to act like a child, but when everyone left. He kept asking him questions and following him around. He also did the high pitched voice which made him think of a child when he looked away from him. It was convincing until his gaze fell on Lui who is a full grown man in his thirties.

“I am not entertaining you,” Evan said, hoping Lui would understand him.

Except Lui continued to follow him to the living room where he watched Evan turn on the game. He passed him a controller, and they played Mario Kart for the next hour. Until Lui decided to yell at him.

“I don’t like it!”

“What?” Evan asked, narrowing a glare at him.

“You’re always losing.”

“Yeah, probably because I’m not good at this game.”

Lui chuckled. “Are you good at any game besides the crap ones?”

Evan shook his head, whatever energy he had was dissipated as the hours went by. Lui no longer used the child voice, and decided to talk normally. They ate jello, and drank juice before returning to the living room.

Evan turned on the Xbox so they can play Black Ops 2. Maybe a few rounds, Lui will find him boring and he’ll decided to leave him alone. He sat down beside him, and they started several rounds.

They laughed together, both of them equally losing while shooting each other in the face, or hitting one another with a knife.

“Fucking Lui,” Evan muttered under his breath. He lost a round, which wasn’t going great in the first place.

“Let’s not get a head of ourselves,” Lui commented, setting the controller down on the couch, “how about we take steps beforehand.” And he leaned up, pulling Evan by his shirt and pressing their mouths together. When he pulled back, Lui grabbed his controller. “I’ll choose a map this time and see if you can kill me.”

Evan’s jaw slackened and he was now gaping at Lui. He tightened his hold on the controller and turned his gaze to the TV. “You better hope I kill you after that kiss.”

“I could make it longer if you want,” Lui suggested.

“You could ask,” Evan muttered.

“I’ll ask when I win again,” Lui replied.

Evan was determined not to let him win, but as they drew closer to the end of the game. Lui won by shooting him in the face with a sniper rifle. Evan closed his eyes and let out a sigh, his fingers loose around the handle of the controller.

Lui grinned at Evan. “Can I kiss you?”

Evan couldn’t will himself to be angry, he was pissed off at everyone else, and that seemed to tire himself out. Evan stared at the screen, pressed a button that set a timer for the next round, and turned to Lui.

“Yes.”

And Lui kissed him, longer than the first and Evan leaned into it. It wasn’t the type of kiss that he could get lost in, but when it was over, he mind was still dazed by it anyway.

Lui pulled away and picked up the controller. “Every round I win, I’ll kiss you.”

“What if I win?” Evan asked.

Lui snorted. “Let’s not over exaggerate. But if you win, you don’t have to kiss me.”

“Okay.” It was fair enough, and he was okay with it.

They played another round, Lui won three, and they kissed, and Evan would bite down on his lower lip when they played again. And finally Evan won a round, his heart racing from the adrenaline and laughter.

And he abandoned the controller, grabbed Lui, and kissed him. Lui laughed at first, but relaxed into it until Evan pulled away. He was breathing hard, and his face was warm. He picked up the controller again.

“Quit smiling,” Lui said, chuckling.

“I finally won a round,” Evan replied.

“And apparently a kiss too.”

It was only a kiss. They traded kisses each time one of them won, some were deepened, others were simple, until the rest of their friends came back. They had their moment together. Evan wasn’t sure if it’ll happen again, but he knew he didn’t mind if it did.


	4. Edge of the Forest • h2ovanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan and Evan are lost out in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a lot shorter. :/ But I kept writing...and yeah, it's a lot longer than it's meant to be. Oh wells. I like it. I hope you do too. :)
> 
> WARNING: Friendship. Mild swearing. Platonic/Romantic. Flirting. Fluff. Humor. Slight horror.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

Jonathan wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

Evan glared at him. “So? Are you just going to stare at me?”

There were many things he wanted to say in this moment, but the words were stuck in his throat, and some vanished from his mind. He couldn’t think straight, not when he was shivering in the darkness beneath branches that moved with the chilly wind. The atmosphere itself wasn’t helping, nor the full moon that was their only available light. They lost their phones awhile ago, and since then, they’ve stayed stuck in the middle of nowhere.

“I don’t want to do this,” he whispered to Evan.

“Not like you have a choice,” Evan told him, not bothering to whisper back. It made Jonathan cringe by how disinterested he was in their particular situation.

“I know something’s out there…” Jonathan looked around them, his shoulders tensing and his hands shaking, “I can feel it in my bones.”

“This is serious shit,” Evan said, still glaring at him, but this time he crossed his arms.

Jonathan bit his lower lip, mentally cursing Evan and all his friends for bringing him out here. Someone had the great idea to go to the middle of nowhere and run around a forest. He didn’t expect them to stay until the sun went down. Now they had no idea where they were. A noise startled Jonathan, snapping his gaze to the darkness surrounding the trees.

“I know there’s something out there.”

“No shit,” Evan said, shaking his head. “We haven’t found the others and you’re being a bitch.”

Jonathan narrowed a glare at Evan. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You’re the one freaking out for nothing. I only asked you to pick a fucking direction.”

He grit his teeth, trying to stop his shaking, except he couldn’t. He had no idea where they were, where their friends were, and where they left their phones. They were probably lying somewhere in that field they were wandering around in earlier. Evan’s smart move to tackle him to the ground, and while they rolled around, their phones probably slipped from their pockets.

Now they had no way to call their friends, find another light source, and search up a map of their general location.

“This is all your fault,” Jonathan said, avoiding Evan’s deepening glare.

“Fine. I’ll pick.” He turned around, and pointed in a random direction. “Let’s go.”

Jonathan walked behind him, glancing around them as he followed Evan through the trees, over large sticks and roots sticking from the ground. They walked for some time, maybe fifteen-to-twenty minutes, and then they came upon a wide open field that looked ominous from the bright glow of the moon, and the dark trees that circled around it.

“We should be several minutes from the car,” Evan said, placing his hands on his hips.

“Can we look for our phones?” Jonathan asked, staring at the tall grass and frowning at their chances.

“Have fun,” Evan muttered, walking along the edge of the field.

Jonathan scanned the grass, remembering they weren’t close to the forest when they left the field. It had to be near the middle, but from the wind pushing against the grass. Their phones would be concealed quite heavily and it’ll take some time for them to find them. They’d have to return in the morning with their friends and look for it then.

He hurried after Evan, but they both stopped when they heard a soft buzzing sound. Looking to their left, they couldn’t see anything in view besides the pale light upon the blades of grass. The buzzing continued and Jonathan followed it until the sound grew louder.

“Is that our phones?” Evan asked.

“I think so,” Jonathan said, hoping the buzzing continued.

They walked faster, scanning the grass until Jonathan stopped, knelt down, dug into the grass until he felt the smooth sides of a phone. He lifted it, and from what it looks like, it was Evan’s. Another set of buzzing continued, and he found his own. He stood and passed Evan’s phone to him.

Evan answered his phone while Jonathan’s went out. The caller ID said CaRtOoNz. He frowned and looked at Evan who’s brows were pinched.

“Shut up,” Evan said to whoever was on the other end, glancing up at Jonathan. “We lost our phones and ended up lost in the forest.”

Jonathan texted Cartoonz and told him that he was alright.

“Yes. If you didn’t phone, we wouldn’t have found them, so thank you, Wildcat,” Evan said, giving Jonathan a small smile. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. Yeah...okay...see you then.” He hung up and tucked his phone into his sweater pocket.

“Are they all there?” Jonathan asked, staring at his phone and reading Cartoonz’s text. He was telling him that he was a dumbass for making him worry, which made Jonathan smile before putting his phone into his pocket.

“Yeah. They’ve been calling for almost an hour,” Evan said. “If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have gotten lost.”

“Me? You’re the one that chose the fucking direction,” Jonathan said, walking along with Evan toward the edge of the forest. “It’s the only reason why you asked me earlier which way I’d like to go.”

Evan shrugged, smiling. “You were too much of a bitch to make a decision.”

“I don’t want to die in the forest. That’s the last thing I want,” Jonathan said. He imagined them dying several times. The sounds of the wind and the creaking of the branches weren’t helping. Nor the strong scent of soil. It seemed like a horror movie, the full moon being the only witness to whatever gruesome end they’d receive if something were out in the darkness, watching them.

“You don’t want to die with me?” Evan asked, nudging Jonathan in the arm. He was obviously joking, and seemed less tense than Jonathan.

Jonathan wrinkled his nose. They walked along the path and he figured this was the way, but to make sure, he checked their GPS, and this time they knew this was the right path.

“I’d die with you in different circumstances,” Jonathan told him.

“How fucking romantic.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I’m not much of a romantic, but sure, our first date will have to be at a restaurant surrounded by people. Not out in the fucking woods in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’d figured that would be ideal for someone like you.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m just saying. Your crazy laugh and personality says a lot, you might as well be a murderer.”

He got that a lot, but it wasn’t who he was. “You know what, I’ll buy you something on the way back into town.”

Evan chuckled. “You’re actually taking me on a date?”

Jonathan narrowed his eyes at him. “Now you’re saying no?”

“I wouldn’t say no to free food.”

“Whatever.”

They continued walking and when they came upon their mass of friends hanging around their individual cars. Evan took the passenger seat in his car, and they all drove out of the area and away from the woods.

Jonathan took Evan to a drive thru at a fast food restaurant when they entered the town they were staying in, and let him order whatever he wanted.

“This is all I need,” Evan said, marveling over his hamburger and fries, his drink sat in the cup holder.

Jonathan was chewing on a fry. “And I thought this would be romantic.”

Evan laughed before biting into his burger. He chewed while Jonathan looked for a station, and when he couldn’t find a good one. They drove in silence until they parked in the parking lot in front of their motel where the rest of their friend’s cars were.

“It is romantic,” Evan told him, getting out of the car with his food. He smiled at Jonathan, “getting lost out in the woods, scared that we’re going to die, then you buy me food. What else would I want?”

Jonathan closed the car door and placed his arm on the car, looking at Evan, feeling quite mundane about their night. He shrugged, “Sex?”

Evan smiled. “Maybe a few more dates and I’ll think about it.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Sure, you will.”

“We can after I’m finished,” Evan said, following Jonathan toward their shared room, and Jonathan was surprised out of everything, he didn’t lose the keys to his car and to the motel.

“I’d rather not taste your food,” Jonathan said, unlocking the door.

“I can brush my teeth.”

Jonathan arched a brow. Finding this entire conversation hilarious. “You really want to have sex with me?”

Evan grinned. “I always wanted to fuck you.”

Jonathan shook his head, feeling tired. “Maybe another time.”

“I’ll remind you the next time we’re left alone.”

Jonathan knew that it’d be pretty soon, but his mind was muddled by the events they went through, and all he wanted was to fall asleep. When they entered their room. He took his sweater off, laid down on the separate double bed in the room. Before he fell asleep, the bathroom light flicked off, and he felt a weight on the side of the bed, and an arm draped over his waist. Before he succumbed to sleep, he smelled fresh mint on Evan’s breath.


	5. Unwanted • h2ovanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan is kidnapped by a murderer, and unfortunately, he has some unwanted desires that he's succumbing too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I never really jumped on this bandwagon. Mostly because I didn't care about it. And what I'm talking about is that comic/graphic novel Killing Stalking. I knew about it, but I didn't care. I found some stuff though on yt, and I checked it out, and it gave me some feelings, and then I got bored, and I listened to Eminem - Cleaning Out My Closet. And that feeling came back, the anger, the intensity, but also this dark unwanted feeling that is my own, not the meaning of Eminem's song, nor much of Killing Stalking. 
> 
> And this story came to mind. lmfao. I wanted to write it before I forgot cause I was actually not going to write today. I'm mostly focusing on other things. I just didn't want to forget this idea, nor the feeling that I had. :)
> 
> WARNING: Kidnapping. Murder. Mild graphic. Blood. Mild trauma. Rough kissing. Dubious consent. Masturbation. Glorification. Romanticized. Toxic. Sexual Content. Stockholm Syndrome. Dark. Swearing.

“Isn’t this fun?” he asked, smirking, holding the handle of the knife in his hand. He let the edge bounce against his knee, dried blood lingered on the sharp end.

Evan stared, exhausted, his arms stayed beside him. The chains around his ankles and wrists stayed lax on the floor. His shirt was damp with blood, and he could feel it on his face, in his hair.

He didn’t want this, and he had screamed it when he was brought to the basement several days ago. When he fought against it, the insanity behind the mask the man wore before he revealed his face. Normal pale skin with brown eyes, short hair, and his blue sweater was stained with blood. He didn’t seem to mind.

A flickering light shown on a body lying on the ground, surrounded by a puddle of blood where it seeped from the wounds where the man had stabbed through the skin.

He laughed until he was finished. Evan had covered his ears the entire time. Not until he was yanked away from the wall, the blood on his hands were warm on his skin. Words fell from his lips when he wrapped Evan’s fingers around the handle of the knife. He had fought against it, except the knife went through the skin, and the body didn’t budge, the voice had gone out, no sign of breath.

Evan’s body went still, and his heart raged inside his chest. His fingers uncurled from the handle and the man shoved him backwards to the wall where he was previously sitting against.

That was how it ended like this.

Staring at the man who had made him stab a dead body. The one he had taken the life out of with his insane laughter and sharp kitchen knife.

He was young. Several years older, but he was also handsome. A strange thought to have, but it was something he noticed when his mask fell from his face when Evan tried to fight him. It was right after he brought the person to the room and he knew what was about to happen. It was sick, it made him panic, and he moved on instinct. He didn’t want it to happen, he didn’t want it on his mind. Oh fuck. He didn’t want to close his eyes and remember this.

“Why are you doing this?” Evan asked, finding his voice, listening to the way the words came out raspy.

“Because I want too,” he answered, moving closer to him, the knife still in his hand.

Evan tensed. He sucked in a breath, but he kept his eyes on him, not sure what he was supposed to do. He tried fighting and screaming, but it did nothing. The chains didn’t help. A way to keep him in place, so he wouldn’t run from the house and out in the street. Yelling that a man murders people in his basement, who kept him locked away for days, and made him stab a body he had killed.

He stopped in front of him on his knees, tilting his head to the side with the same smirk on his lips. He seemed intrigued, amused by his reaction. The knife was idle in his hand, and he brought it up. Evan’s breath was stuck in his throat, he clenched his teeth down, and his fingers curled. Then the knife pressed into the wall beside his head, and the man leaned forward.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered against his lips. “All that blood on you, fear in your eyes, vulnerability in your body.”

“Please…” Evan whispered, shaking, “don’t kill me.”

“Why would I kill you?” he asked, and then he pressed their mouths together.

Evan stiffened. This was the last thing he thought the man would do, and his lips were warm, slightly dry.

The man discarded the knife to the side by the sound of metal hitting the concrete. He gripped Evan’s shoulders. Roughly opened his mouth with his lips, and his tongue entered where it tangled with his own.

Evan whimpered, his hands curled into the fabric of the man’s sweater, except he didn’t push him back, and he didn’t pull him closer. As the seconds ticked by, his mind became empty of thought and feeling. All he knew was that they were covered in blood in a dark damp basement with a barely flickering light to the side that illuminated the body he had killed, and the body Evan had stabbed.

The blood was iron between them, and there was mold somewhere in the room beyond the walls. The chains clinked together with their movements.

He moved back, panting against his lips, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Isn’t this fun?”

Evan didn’t mean for it happen, but he moaned at the loss, at the feeling in his body that tightened his hold on the murderer’s sweater. He opened his eyes, and the man was staring at him, but there was something odd on his face. A curious and maybe confused expression.

He leaned closer, “Do you want me to kiss you?”

And it was a question that had him aching. A sick feeling that overwhelmed him and he nodded without thinking about it. The man smiled, and this time he was slow when he kissed him. As if he was trying to remember the feeling of his lips, or maybe the sensation of them in this terrible situation.

Evan didn’t really think about it anymore. His body was warm, and most of it went beneath his jeans that were ripped and stained with blood and dirt. He could feel it, and it made his mind muddled. All his instincts screaming for him to stop, to find a way to escape was fading by the second as lust began to cloud his mind.

“Don’t,” Evan said when the man pulled back again.

He chuckled. “I have to check something. I’ll be right back.” He reached for the knife he had discarded and picked it up. When he rose, he didn’t look at the body he had mutilated, and he didn’t look back at Evan who was panting against the wall.

Evan blinked a few times, but his mind was still clouded as he fiddled with the buttons of his jeans, and pulled down his zipper, and then he leaned his head against the wall, his mouth open. His hand went under his pants, beneath his underwear, and wrapped around his cock. He whimpered, biting down on his lip when he moved his hand, trying to ease that unwanted lust from his mind.

With his eyes closed, he tried thinking of the way the man had kissed him, or even pornography he had looked at, or maybe his exes. Instead, his mind went to the dead body, to the way the man had dragged them to the room and dropped them on the floor, naked and wet from a bath filled with ice by the way they had shivered and screamed, begging for their life. They had stared at Evan, their eyes wide with realization at the chains around his ankles and wrists.

The man had knelt down, grabbing the person and without even hesitating, no threat to speak of. He stabbed them until they were convulsing on the floor by the intense pain they were experiencing, and their loss of blood.

The man laughed, echoing in the room. Over and over as blood splashed in the air, against the floor and the walls. So close that it touched his face. He wanted to cry, to tell the man to stop, but his words were stuck in his throat.

And because of this, he chased his release, and he opened his eyes and they went straight to the body. He came by the sight, his body stiffening, and he moaned without caring how loud he was being. He needed it, to rid it from his system, and he was sick by how he had done it to a body that had begged for its life.

Evan panted, and when he turned his gaze straight ahead of him. A figure stood in the dark, their face hidden away. It was obvious it was the man, and that he had watched him cum to a victim he had killed, mutilated, and discarded for his sick thrill.

He slowly walked toward him, and Evan had let go of his cock and was wiping off the cum on his jeans. He stared back, not bothering to break eye contact. Whatever guilt or shame he was meant to feel wasn’t there inside his head. All he did feel was that he was able to release that tension inside of him. He was calmer, less anxious, and whatever mental breakdown he was about to have had faded.

“You’re disgusting,” he said, laughing. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Evan grinned. “Says the man who kills people in his basement.”

The man knelt down again, placing the knife away from Evan. “I don’t jerk off to the dead bodies.”

“I’m sure you do to some of them,” Evan countered, he didn’t want to be the only one in this fucking room to have done that. Not even to a murderer who had the audacity to call him _disgusting_.

The man crawled toward him and he didn’t say anything when he pressed their lips together again. A more deeper, rougher kiss, and his fingers dug into his shoulders. It was painful, bruises would surely be there. Imprints of his fingernails in an hour or so.

He pulled back, pressing their forehead together. “Jonathan.”

Evan furrowed his brows. “Is this really how you’re introducing yourself?” he asked him.

Jonathan shrugged, smirking. “After that fucking display, I’m not letting you go.”

“You really believe that?”

Jonathan kissed him again, and to Evan’s surprise. It was passion. A deep, intense, kiss, that left him wanting more. It also turned him on again, and when Jonathan noticed, he had grabbed onto his cock.

“Looks like you’re not done yet,” he said, smug and determined when he pulled a moan from Evan’s mouth. His thumb going over the slit, smearing precome, and slowly dragging his hand up and down, eliciting a response from him.

Evan will one day wipe that smirk off his face, but it wasn’t that day. Not when Jonathan teased him, prolonging his release that he begged against that wall, near the dead body, in front of his kidnapper, and a murderer.

He didn’t know if he’d ever escape, but his mind was too clouded by lust that he didn’t think much of it. And even when he came for the second time that night, he didn’t say a thing when Jonathan dragged the body out of the room. He tried to will the shame and guilt to his mind, to his heart, but he didn’t feel anything.

And if he was being honest, he didn’t want to leave.

Not when he wanted to know more about Jonathan.


	6. Red Flag • terrornuckle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock is in a dire situation, and he has to fight his way out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. :) I'm not sure why Moo and Terroriser are shipped. If anyone wants to point to some videos that have obvious stuff in it. I'll appreciate it. :) I want to understand!
> 
> Anywho, if you're looking for anything romantic, or sexual. Then you're about to read the wrong story. LOL. I might write something like that since this collection of stories have a sort of dark undertone too it. :)
> 
> WARNING: Kidnapping. Dubious consent. Blood. Violence. Non-Graphic swearing. Mild implication of sexual content. Mention of Vanossgaming/Evan Fong.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

Finding his way through the rope was harder than he thought it’d be. His nails were cut and smoothed down, he had done it days ago, and was now regretting it. If only he’d known that he’d be in this type of situation. He wished there was some kind of red flag he could’ve spotted, and maybe there was one. He was probably not watching one while sitting inside a diner, drinking coffee, talking about nonsense.

The coffee was bitter. That was probably his red flag. Or maybe a sign he shouldn’t let people surprise order for him. The coffee was kind of how he got into this situation, and his lack of intuition in people. The smiles, compliments, the talent to make him laugh. He should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Now he was trying to get out of tight ropes around his wrists that were pulled to his back. His ankles were also tied, bruises blossoming upon pale skin. The position he was lying was uncomfortable. His arms ached. He kept his breathing normal, enough so the man wouldn’t notice that he was awake. He didn’t need him to know, he only needed time. Time was important in this situation. A moment to breathe, a moment to fight. That’s all he needed to find his way out.

He kept switching between the channels, different kinds of music floating in the air. Soft swears leaving his lips. He slammed his hand against it, and a voice came out, one that sounded exhilarated about sports.

He should’ve listened to Evan. Bastard was probably laughing, blowing up his phone about how much he told him so. Yeah. He’d have to buy him a drink once he gets out of the tight ropes. Keyword: If. A bit of hope on his part, that’s all he has to hold onto.

He bit down onto his bottom lip and breathing hard through his nose. He relaxed his shoulders, letting out a soft groan. The coffee tasted weird when he first took a sip, alarms going off, but like an idiot he downed the entire thing and his mind began to numb. The man had wrapped an arm around his waist when he almost fell forward, mumbling words against the top of his head. He told the waitress lies that sounded so damn easy to spew.

He tried to speak. To call out that something was wrong. He couldn’t, and he blacked out. Alarms going off.

_Get out. Leave. Leave. Leave. Leave. Fucking leave!_

He couldn’t. Not with the drug in his system, and he hoped the man didn’t stop. That their destination wasn’t close by. They kept driving, and it was enough for the drug to leave his mind. Numbness going out, enough for him to move his fingers. He kept his heart from racing too hard, he couldn’t have a mental breakdown. Screaming wouldn’t do anything for him. He had to do something, he had to think clearly.

After this, he needed a weapon. Something to fight him off. He hoped he could run fast enough to get away. He only hoped he _could_ get away.

Thinking ahead will ruin his chances. Right now, he had to focus on the ropes. He wiggled his fingers through. Hoping to stretch it enough so he could get his hand through. It took time. It was too tight. He had tied it too much, and he fingered at the knot, but could barely untie it without alerting his kidnapper that he was trying to get out of his work.

Inch by inch, he pushed his fingers through. The rope began to loosen, not enough, but he could wedge his hand out. He took a deep breath. He had to do this. He had to get out of this situation. No one was going to save him. He had to do it himself.

Brock bit down harder on his lip, and pulled his hand through. His heart began to race, and his breath rose with each pulse. He swallowed the spit building in his mouth, and he slowly took out his other hand. He held the rope that had bound him. He squeezed his eyes closed. He had to think. How was he going to get out of this situation now? What was he supposed to do?

_Damage him._

Brock opened his eyes, he rolled, his knees hit the floor of the car and before the man could stop the car itself. His words flailed with swears, almost swerving which made Brock wobble, but he gripped the rope that he still held. He reached up and wrapped the rope around the man’s throat. The man pressed down on the brake, but Brock held tight and he heard the gurgling choking sound.

He spotted something on the passenger seat. A large knife in a black sheath. His legs were still bound, and the car had stopped barely in the ditch, surrounded by darkness and a few dimmed street lights.

_Where did he take him?_

Brock pushed himself up, reached for the knife. The man grasped his wrist, digging his fingers into his skin. He winced, sucking in a breath, but he wrapped his fingers around the handle and fell backwards against the seat.

“Fucking bastard!” The man said, pulling the rope away from his neck.

Brock yanked the sheath off, abandoning it on the floor and cut the thick tight rope from his ankles. The man turned on his seat and was reaching for Brock. On reflex, he brought the knife up, and it cut the man’s hand, he gasped.

The large slash with blood dribbling through the crease of skin was the last thing he saw when he crawled to the door and grabbed the handle. It was opened to his surprise. The man probably didn’t think he’d wake up any time soon. That he would get out of the rope and fight his way out.

_Leave! Leave! Leave! Leave! Fucking Leave!_

That same voice came to his mind. Screaming at him as he met the cold air against his face, biting his skin as he stumbled on the dirt and grass. Barely falling. Gripping the handle of the knife, and listening to the screams of the man that was chasing after him.

A harsh sound cut into the air, so loud that he couldn’t hear himself breathe. He felt the fear when the same sound came through. Pain slashing into his arm, and he stumbled. Yelping, he fell hard onto the ground. The knife falling from his hand. He groaned, sucking in gulps of air.

Realization clung to his mind while pain enveloped him. He was shot. The man shot him with a gun. He wasn’t getting away. He had to get away. He had to leave. He trembled, teeth clenched as sound began to rise. The man was so close that he could see the shadow forming around him until he stopped. A devilish grin on the curve of his lips, the gun pointed to the ground.

“Did you think you could get away?” he asked, kneeling down and reaching for the knife. “I didn’t expect you to try. You don’t seem like the type.”

Brock breathed hard, the blood squeezed through his fingers from his ripped fabric of his sweater. “What do you want?” he asked.

“You?” he said, softer, warmer, kinder, obsessively messed up.

Brian. That was his name. Brian. Sweet, kind, funny Brian who made him laugh, and talked about games, and drinks that would be too much for Brock. A friend with attraction in the depths of his eyes. The coffee was somehow a kindness, a moment for them to stay together, to talk some more before they’ll have to separate. Except the man didn’t tell him he dropped something inside his drink and stared at him with love as if everything was okay. Except he knew what he was doing. He knew what this meant, and how Brock was going to see it as.

Disgusting.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Brian said, tilting his head to the side, looking at the wound in Brock’s shoulder, and the blood that was soaking into his fabric. He didn’t look concerned. He didn’t look like he cared at all.

“You were going too,” Brock retorted, voice raspy.

Brian’s gaze flicked back to him, a smile twitched at his lips. “This is why I like you.” He reached down, and Brock tried to pull away, except Brian yanked him into a sitting position by his wounded arm.

Brock’s mouth fell open, and he yelled in pain. His body stiffened, and he stopped fighting.

Brian stared, indifferent. “You look right through me.”

_Leave. Leave. Leave. You have to fucking leave!_

Brock whimpered. He had to leave. He had to get out of this situation. He reached for the gun in Brian’s hand. He noticed, and pulled back, his grin rising to his lips. Brock grabbed for the knife, knowing that his grip would loosen, at least he hoped it would. He gripped the sharp end, and Brian jerked, the knife dug into his fingers.

Brock kicked at his leg, letting go of the knife and reaching for Brian’s wrist. He dug his fingers into his skin.

Brian pressed the gun to his chest. “Let go.”

Brock panted, he willed a smile at Brian. “You’re going to ruin the fun with a dead body?”

The hesitation and confusion was enough for Brock to yank the knife out and slash at Brian. He fell back, blood blossoming on his neck. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was enough for Brock to crawl on top of Brian who fought with him over the gun.

_Leave. Leave. Leave...kill him._

Brock clenched his teeth. Wrenching the gun out of his hand, tossing it to the side where it disappeared into the tall grass, swallowed by the darkness, and bringing the knife down and forced it through skin and bone. Brian spasmed, his entire body tensed and he let out a shout. Brock didn’t let go of the knife. He shoved the knife deeper until it came out the other side of his shoulder where it dug into the dirt.

A fevered heat washed over Brock’s body. He panted hard, bringing in the bitter cold air into his throat and he let go of the knife. Brian stared at the sky, glaring, heavy and angry. Brock slowly rose. He was still trembling, tense, but accepting.

“Leaving before the fun could begin,” Brian whispered, his gaze stayed on the dark blanketed sky with pockets of stars glinting down on the them.

The wind pressed against his cheek, along his jawline. He can feel the blood on his skin, sticky and aware. Prints of Brian’s hands on his clothes, drying and sinking into the soft fabric that couldn’t protect him from the darkness.

“You’re not a dead body,” Brock answered, frowning, “but if you come after me again…”

_Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him...Leave._

Brian smiled. “You’re the first.”

Brock turned away and walked back toward the car. His hands trembled, his heart racing, but with each step everything began to settle. He sat in the driver seat. Locking the doors, he gripped the steering wheel. Brian had kept the car on to Brock’s relief. He drove out of the ditch and back onto the road.

He glanced back into the rearview mirror.

Brian wasn’t there anymore. Darkness enveloped the road he left behind, and the silence surrounded him once more. The blood crumbled under his fingers as hours went on, and when the sun peaked in the horizon.

He found the town, called Evan from a payphone near the diner where it all began. Told him to meet him, and he plopped into his car. He grabbed for his cellphone that he had forgotten. Brian probably tossed it in here after he dragged him to his car.

Evan had texted him hours ago and there was an answer from him that he didn’t recall.

 **Vanoss:** Watch out for red flags.

 **Moo:** Don’t worry, I will. :)

Brock dropped the phone and drove out of the town. A few more hours until he meets up with Evan. Brian’s smile stayed on his mind. He was amused. And he knew that he wasn’t going to stop. Brock didn’t know what he’ll do when Brian tries again. He might even listen to those voices inside his head.

_Red flag. Kill him. Red flag. Kill him. Red flag. Kill him. Red flag. Kill him._


	7. Blank Canvas PT 1 • h2ovanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and his friends are not normal people, they hold something within them that could manipulate the world itself. Except, instead of doing anything nefarious or even an ounce of good. They'd rather save a friend who was captured, and has a death sentence from a group of people who despise them for the energy they control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. I was going to write that GANG AU, inspired by this fanart online, but the story took a different direction. LMFAO. Oh wells, maybe I'll try another time. :/ Any who, I actually like this idea, so I'm dividing it in different parts throughout Ghost Town. :D
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> WARNING: Swears. Superpower Plot. H2oVanoss. Non-graphic violence. Blood. Death. Friendship. Romance. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

Days like today were endless. A smothering of heat that poured sweat from his skin, making his hair stick to his forehead. He’d wipe it away and wrinkle his nose before rubbing the sweat off his hand and onto his pants. The thing about this predicament, was that it was night time, and it shouldn’t be this fucking hot.

Evan woke up not even long ago, and plucked the first thing he saw off the ground in his bedroom. A leather jacket with a broken zipper. He wore the same clothes as he wore the other night, simple black jeans with a rip in the right knee, and a grey loose shirt. The call he received that made him get up from his day’s sleep was more like a lecture than any decent instructions. He was at the port, leaned against a warehouse, and even the cold wind couldn’t cool him down. The smell of the ocean itself stunk worse than a sewer, but after awhile of standing around, waiting for that idiot to arrive, he got used to it, unfortunately.

He took his phone from his pocket and turned it on. A message sat on his bright screen with a stupid happy smile at the bottom.

_Sorry._

_Thought Lui was joking._

_Be there in 10 mins._

_:)_

Scowling, Evan tucked his phone back into his pocket. He looked himself over before wiping away more sweat that accumulated on his forehead. He paced, rubbing his hands together, checking for his knife that sat in his holster that was strapped around his thigh, including his pistol inside his jacket. It was there, including an extra mag. He didn’t expect any difficulty. Lui told him was also stationed close by with Tyler. Letting himself and the idiot do this alone would be juvenile.

He wasn’t sure how long it’s been, and he did check his phone. Passed the ten minute mark, he was about to call him, but instead he heard a shrill break the silence. An echo of a scream, or maybe the insane laughter that escaped his vocal chords that sent some people running. He didn’t look like much, but usually men and women who were killers weren’t exactly holding a sign up that they were. And this guy, he enjoyed giving everyone a warning before he entered the room, or at least the port.

The rumble of an engine clashed with his laughter, and it came to a fast stop. Evan figured it was stolen by the way glass shattered, and the sounds of metal slamming hard into something.

He ran along the edge and looked to see a blue figure flying through the air, laughter escaping his lips like the Joker falling off buildings to his death. An excitement for danger singing in his movements when he clutched a hold of the thin silver metal railing. Almost falling, but pushing his feet against the tanker for leverage. He looked to his side, a crazy smirk spread across his face, and blue energy glowed in his eyes. He waved, and in a flash of light, disappeared only to show up several meters in the sky, falling with a laugh leaving his lips.

Always the one to ruin the suspense.

“Fucking Delirious, you fucking idiot!”

He winced, the noise escalated inside his head that it popped his ears. He gritted his teeth, and his legs shook by the pressure. It seemed to bother Delirious who had disappeared and landed on the top of the tanker, hands grasping the sides of his head.

Tyler was always broadcasting when he was angry or frustrated. This was no different, a sort of huffing could be heard before his voice faded out.

Delirious lifted his head, the sounds of gunfire broke the silence, and he disappeared once more. There was no smoke, no strange glitching movement, or even a strain on this ability. Instead he was there one moment, and here the next.

Showing up a foot away from him, stumbling by the noise with a scowl on his face, mumbling Tyler’s name before falling against him. Evan grabbed his arms, and groaned as his weight that made him step back before straightening his posture.

“Discreet, you idiot,” he told him, a whisper in his ear, harsh and annoyed.

A chuckle left Delirious’s lips. “Where would the fun be in that?” Then he reached up, wrapped his arms around Evan’s body, and before he could protest, they were gone in a blink of an eye. His feet no longer standing on concrete, but landing on metal. It always made him dizzy, and in turn caused him to shove Delirious away from him.

“Fucking idiot,” he muttered.

Delirious laughed, tilting his head to the side. “Beautiful night for a massacre.”

“We’re not massacring anyone,” he said, looking over the edge and stepping back to avoid a bullet.

Delirious raised his hands into the sky as if he could touch it, his smile still pulled taut at the corners. “Are you going to do this or not? Or shall I finish it for you and we can head off to eat. I’m starving.”

Rolling his eyes, he wouldn’t deny he was hungry as well. He just didn’t want Delirious to do anything too reckless that would somehow piss off both Lui and Tyler.

Sniffling, he pulled on the pressure inside of him. The dormant energy that he barely touched on a whim. A place that was too dangerous, to chaotic, and fucked up to have given to a human like him. He heard the sounds, felt the wind, his breath, the humming coming from Delirious’s lips, and the shouting rising in his head from Tyler, and then he jumped off the edge of the top of the tanker. And as the seconds went by, they slowed down, and his descent was soft. Feet touching the main floor of the tanker, surrounded by bullets going through the air in a slow motion, while the men of the vessel clustered round him, anger tainting their features.

Time was a difficult process.

He couldn’t waste it, and he couldn’t possess it.

All he could do was use enough of it that was given to him.

Except that wasn’t the only thing he could do, he moved time, bent it to his will, and watched as the days spun until he found what he was looking for. Watching as they led him to the place where they hid their secrets, and clustered around it with a man in a business suit. Descending into the lower floors, he ticked time off, over and over again until it was his to hold onto. A second is all he needed and he saw it ripped from the wall, a man burning it to pieces before many more who protested of his reckless decision.

“What do you have to say?” Evan asked.

And time went on, slower, more even until his voice became clear to him.

“We have to keep it a secret. Having one is good enough, and if they all learn of what we’ve done, they’ll come for us all. They’ll kill us. Destroy us. And that’ll be the end of humanity. Take the experiment away, hide them in the depths of the earth, and let them rot with power they have no purpose in possessing.”

He let time go again, watching as it spun until it came to a full stop and the night air touched his neck, cooling the cold sweat upon his skin.

“I got it,” he said, turning to Delirious who arched a brow.

“Is our comrade still breathing?”

“Not for long. It’s been three days since he was taken…” He reached out to Delirious who took his arm and brought him into an embrace. “We don’t have to hug.”

“I know,” Delirious murmured against his hair, “I just like holding you.”

He rolled his eyes, and they disappeared once more. The bullets and screaming continued onwards, but was too silent for them to hear when they found themselves in front of Tyler and Lui, who were sitting on top of a building. Lui with a sniper rifle, and Tyler holding a beer and looking pissed off.

“Did you find it?” Lui asked, taking apart the gun.

He nodded. “They were here several days ago, and the Overseer destroyed their plans, but I got a good look at it. They’re planning to kill him, including finding the others.”

Lui looked up at him, his gaze heavy with thought. “I see. Do you know the location?”

He didn’t like it, it was off, a feeling that twisted inside of him with rage and pain. Knowing he couldn’t do anything but watch and wait. Listen to what is going on, and hope he could find a solution, or at least, hope that Lui could. “I know where they kept him, and where they’re planning to bury him.”

“Great,” Tyler said, taking a swig, “now what do we do?”

Lui secured the clasps on the case and passed it too Tyler. “We leave no loose strings.” He stood, Evan and Delirious moved away from each other as Lui walked to the edge of the building and stood on top. He raised his hands, and Evan knew that Lui’s eyes were glowing a bright white color. None of their abilities could be strained as much as people watched on TV. An ability with a weakness, everyone had one, no one could pretend they didn’t.

Lui was strong, but his ability took focus, and unlike the rest of them. He did not touch time, nor space, but he touched the mind and used it to his control.  In a matter of seconds, they all went to Delirious and connected with each other, the tanker blew up the second they vanished from the roof.


	8. Cat-and-Mouse • Reader vs BBS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You worked for them, and during an accusation amongst all of the workers, you were the only one that got away. But how far can you go before they track you down and finish you off?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request. :) Inspired by a fic called Drop-Off, an attempted Reader-Insert of mine. 
> 
> It took me awhile to write this, not because it was difficult, but because two days ago on the 9.25.18, I had a mental breakdown, and I was going through a psychotic break for two days. So writing wasn't exactly something I wanted to do because of how exhausted I became. :/ 
> 
> Anyway, I'm ish feeling better, hopefully I don't get the flu since my family is going through that of late. 
> 
> The gender is ambiguous, but it feels like male, however, while I looked it over, I noticed both pronouns. So, if you see any, my bad, I'll fix it. Right now, I'm tired, and wrote it quickly so I can focus on my other stuff. :) 
> 
> I also didn't mean it to be about 5k. It was supposed to be 3k. LOL. 
> 
> WARNING: Reader-insert. Murder. BBS Gang AU. Subtle elements of the Gang AU. BBS are the enemies. Blood. Death. Paranoia. Ambigous character death. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments are appreciated. No flames or bashing please.

You drove the truck into the warehouse and stopped in front of a guy waving his hands, his brows pushed inward in an obvious annoyed glare. You put the truck in park and stepped out of the vehicle and onto the cement. Wrinkling your nose at the strong stench of the ocean’s brine, you glanced to a group of workers making their way over to the back of the truck and opening the compartment.

“No trouble?” a man asked, he held a tablet in his hand and was analyzing your station.

You nodded, making sure the number sowed into your grey coat was obvious. “Discreet, like what Tyler ordered before I left.”

The man hummed. “I’ll check the merchandise. Stay here until I’m finished.”

He walked by, staring at his tablet toward the group of workers dragging boxes from the truck and setting them on the forklift.

You looked around, it was midnight and you should be home. Except your bosses wanted some errands done before anyone got that luxury. You didn’t mind if it meant you earned more money out of the hassle.

Walking across the warehouse, you sat down on a crate that read GUNS while another said AMMUNITION. Waiting for the overseer to finish with his inspection, you took out your phone and frowned when you noticed you had no signal. Checking several times, there was nothing and then the screen went black.

“What the…?” you wondered, pressing the power button a few times, but nothing. You didn’t get anything in it to contaminate it, and the screen itself wasn’t even cracked. Also, you were sure you got it this year. Why would it be breaking down now when the warehouse always had internet connection.

You glanced up and noticed the overseer was looking over his tablet and was calling for another one. He passed it to a worker, and was tapping his foot on the cement. Did they lose internet connection? Or was there a blackout on this side of the city? Sometimes that happened.

Except a swift sound cutting into the noise within the warehouse had made everyone go still and quiet. The only noise they did hear was a body slamming into the cement, blood gurgling from their throat before they went still.

You didn’t move. You couldn’t move. All you did do was stare at the body lying across from you near the overseer who had taken a step back, and another bullet shoved itself into his shoulder, making him stumble and cry out.

You looked up to see Tyler, or other words, Wildcat. He was grinning, holding a pistol in his hand. Taller than the rest, and swore the most. He was somewhat mature, but he always slipped in that regard.

You weren’t entirely sure if this was one of those moments, except you could see Lui, Nogla, and Ohmwrecker standing beside Tyler. All three didn’t look amused, but they didn’t stop him either. Which terrified you, this was serious, something was happening that they obviously didn’t care that they were shooting their own workers.

Lui cleared his throat, curling his fingers around the iron railing. “I’m not going to stand here and say I’m sorry. All I’m going to say is that there is a mole within our midst. A separate warehouse has been located by a rival of ours, and this one included. I want to know who sold us out.”

The overseer glanced at you, but his gaze hit the cement of the dead man before him. You trembled, hoping the four on the second level didn’t notice. Your gaze went to the truck you had brought in, and knew eventually they’ll find out you were the driver. They’ll suspect you of being the mole, and that’ll be that.

“Are none of you assholes going to say anything?” Tyler asked, he brought his arm up and pulled the trigger. The overseer fell backwards with a bullet lodged into his forehead.

You jumped, breath stuck in your throat.

One of the workers pleaded, but Tyler scowled, shooting him next. With that person dead, chaos fueled everyone to start panicking. All the workers rushed to the entrances of the warehouse, while the four above took out their own guns.

You gasped, falling backwards over the crates and hitting the cement. Your phone fell from your hand, but it didn’t matter. Gritting your teeth, you turned on your side and crept on your hands and knees as the body count began to grow. A drum of bodies hitting the concrete, while screams and begging words that failed with bullets screaming at them for silence.

You couldn’t stay. Even if you worked for these people for almost a year. A carjacker at first, an exporter the next. More professionalism upon a resume that was unfit for a proper job. And you weren't exactly on the right path of a good livelihood anyway, so why start?

They were a happy bunch with trigger fingers easily placed on their guns. Always tucked away inside their clothes or in the holsters secured around their waists. A flash of it here and there. A silent reminder that they wouldn’t be argued with, that they were the boss, and a no means nothing to them when they were the threat whispering in the workers ears.

You didn’t bother with a reputation amongst them. Some of the workers tried grasping friendships like straws when they always ended up with the short end.

You stayed in a line that kept your head down. A blue cap with their logo set into the fabric covering your dark brown hair, trimmed to the nape, messy at the end of the day when you ran your fingers through the indented greasy strands. Days that felt more like a rhythm, less dull, and more productive then when you went to school everyday. Tasting the stagnant dust lingering on unoccupied desks in an empty room. Always pulling the windows open, breathing in fresh air, either if it were warm, cold, or hot.

It was better than being reminded of those days.

And the job fit. You weren’t cruel as they wanted you to be, and they never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. A ghost. That’s what you were. A shadow hanging in the background amongst the other eager workers who wanted the spotlight.

This was proof they didn’t give a shit about any of them.

Same people in the same clothes, all replicants of each other. Similar lives with no context meant nothing to men with guns in their hands, holding a set of skills at the pull of the trigger.

You kept the sickness down when you finally stepped into the shadow of the warehouse. Your legs were like sticks, unable to hold yourself up and threatening to break under the panic in your head, throbbing on either sides. You rushed along the side of the warehouse and headed for the parking lot. Checking the corners, you noticed two large black trucks. No one was in them.

Only the three of them came to the warehouse?

Made sense if they were cocky enough to know that they can get away eliminating their own workers. Not cocky. _Knowing_ they can do it without any repercussions. They owned most of the city by the accidental intel he overheard from passing workers under hushed voices, afraid of the echo inside the warehouse.

Sooner or later, they were going to do this. The workers knew too much. The locations, the price, the secrets within the boxes that were labeled and secured by the overseer that was now dead, added to the piles of bodies they managed to shoot down.

You didn’t know if you were smelling the harsh brine of the ocean, or the strong aroma of thick blood wafting from the open hangar where you escaped from.

You sucked in a breath and gritted your teeth. Stepping into the vehicles shadow, and reached for the handle of the door. Before you could test it out, you felt a strange movement in the air, someone was breathing behind you, inhaling and exhaling. They weren’t hiding that they were there.

Before you could move, or even grasp the handle of the door. You were shoved hard against the vehicle. Hissing, you shoved back, twisting to the side, and found yourself face-to-face with Brock or in other words, Moo.

The more soft spoken member of the BBS. The one less to do any real damage and take part in violence. It didn’t mean he wasn’t. He was a core member, and that meant something amongst their numbers. He was also well respected, and you weren’t an idiot to ask him dumb questions, nor even bother to plead for your life.

In the eyes of these people. Your life obviously meant nothing to them, and that included Moo who lunged for you. Clenched teeth, and a rising growl deep from his throat, fingers grasping your arm, but you pulled back your free hand and slammed the bottom of your palm into the side of his face, knocking him off balance. His hold slipped from the sleeve of your sweater, and he shook his head. He reached for his belt, but you watched him blink in surprise when he felt nothing in his holster.

A cold handle between your fingers, heavy, and threatening when you pulled the trigger. Moo jolted, sucking in a trembling gasp before falling on the black concrete. You reached into his pockets and found the car keys. Dropping the gun several feet from Moo who didn’t look focused on it, but the wound in his stomach. You couldn’t look back at him, but you did listen to him moan, muttering a name you could barely hear before sitting into the driver’s seat and closing the door.

You drove away from Moo who writhed on the cement, and the warehouse that you were sure was painted red from the piles of bodies of your former co-workers. You pictured your bosses stepping over them and the puddles of blood, counting until they came to a realization there was one missing.

You clenched your fingers around the steering wheel and pushed down on the gas. You drove and drove, thinking maybe that it was all behind you. The light posts burned your eyes as you passed each one. And what caught your attention in the side mirror was a set of lights drawing closer, and at first, you didn’t think too much about it. Not until a hand stuck out from the window, gripping a weapon you knew was called an SMG.

The flare of bullets shattered the glass around you, puncturing the upholstery. Skidding on the road, a car slowed when you drove too close. For a second, you looked back before one of the jeeps slammed into the car, a scream cut into the air, followed by sliding metal and shattered glass. You gritted your teeth when you noticed the separate drivers in each of the vehicles.

Wildcat and Terroriser.

The only advantage you knew you had against them was that you were one of their best drivers. Compared to the others, you were one of the only people who took the merchandise to each of the warehouses and drop points. Sometimes you watched the other workers who drove in your place for the overseer who you reported in after you finished.

They wanted to know who could be trusted. And somehow, they made a mistake through all those calculations. They found out, and you weren’t sure that staying or running would save you. Living in this lifestyle had given you instincts to tell you when something bad was going to happen, and when to move.

Going back, begging, or somehow bargaining for your life was not going to save you. They were hunting, and once they find you, they will kill you. Another disposable worker under the fingers of men who owned the underbelly of the city.

You never wanted to get this deep, but here you were.

You glanced in the rearview mirror once you get the car back into position and was speeding down the street. Pass cars and pedestrians near the street lights. Faces blurring out between the flicker of bullets skimming off the side of the car, ticking off pieces of glass in front of you.

Turning down several streets, you made sure to enter dark alleys, small that you could get onto the next street that reached another alley. Each one different, more turns, less people, and the silence rose with your panting breath until you found a place at a dead end and parked the vehicle into a driveway. Got out, and glanced down the alley.

There was no noise, no sign of them getting closer. Not wanting to stay in one place, you climbed the fence, wandered into another alley and lingered for a few minutes, crouched down near two bushes. In case they drove past, you could ease into the bushes and hide your body. Except there was no need since no one came down the street. No cars or people. Not even the sound of a gun going off.

It was only you, the darkness, and the silence.

You waited a few more minutes and then your heart picked up when the vehicle appeared. Slow and aware. You stayed still as it crawled closer several feet away. They weren’t going to see you in the bushes, but you still had to make sure that they didn’t see anything that didn’t warrant them to have a look in case it was you. And the night was already shit, why make it shittier?

You counted inside your head, keeping your breathing even. Waiting and waiting until the car went past, and you continued to wait. Your breath in cased inside your chest, fighting for release. You slowly gave it what it wanted, and licked at your dry lips.

You weren’t safe in this city. Anyone could snitch you out to them, and if you turned out to be—and from the looks of it—the last one left alive. They might get a great idea to keep you alive a bit longer, and from the way they conducted their business, and threatened others by keeping order within the city. Their definition of _fun_ might be skewered than your own.

You once said that to a friend of yours. “Sure. It’ll be fun.”

How hilarious, he didn’t even laugh when you said that. Only responding with, “Famous last words.”

The memory only adds to your panic when you finally rise from the bushes and glance around the corner. They’re gone. But they’re not far away, you knew that. They were waiting, and you weren’t about to give them another game of chase.

You kept to the alleys, watching with paranoia as you went. There was one place you wanted to go to, and it was a friend of yours that had no idea you were running with a gang of psychopaths. It took some time to get there, but you could see his house from two blocks away. A honey colored apartment with iron railings with a tree on the side, several of the tenants had flowers, towels, and other assortments hanging around their separate balconies.

Before you crossed the street, hoping you could have a moment to breath. You stopped, moving back when you caught sight of your friend slamming open the balcony door, he shoved it back, hoping to keep whoever was on the other side from getting to him.

You were about to wave, but a sound splintered through the wooden door. You saw the jerk of your friend and his entire body stutter, going still before stumbling backwards. He grasped the black railing, and there was a large splotch of red in the center of his abdomen.

The door opened once he looked down and you made eye contact with him. It was already too late, his face was pale, and the infamous member of the group who was mistaken for the leader on several occasions shoved open the door, put a gun to his head and fired.

You breathed heavily, watching as your friend’s body slumped over against the railing, his head tilted to the side with blood dripping to the ground below.

And he noticed you, followed by his best friend dressed in a bright blue sweater, wearing a white hockey mask over his face. They looked like strange monsters on the fifth floor of the apartment building, standing over a dead body.

The Owl grinned, grasped your friend’s body and shoved him over the railing. You sucked in a trembling breath when you followed the descent until his body slammed into the ground like a ragdoll. Bleeding in the the shadow of the building, away from the light of the streetlamp, no movement uttered from those broken bones and bullet hole on either side of his head.

He played around with a vintage polaroid he once unearthed from his grandparents basement. He had a large interest for cameras since, and wanted to create a collection. He was the one hoping to keep memories forever sealed in the form of photo’s tucked inside an album. He was hoping to do something with this passion, to create something out of it.

Why was this the start and end of his legacy?

You stared for too long, and glanced up. They were gone. You backed up, turned, and sprinted down an alley. Away from your friend you knew since you two were kids, away from an apartment you crashed at on the couch when you felt lonely. Away from a past that was taken away because they knew too much, and now that you knew that they knew your identity. It was going to take a bit of time to get away.

All you had to do was find a payphone.

The cold night made your hands stiff. You rubbed them together, watching the streets as time went by. Maybe around an hour or so when your friend was killed, and all you did was run. Like a coward, but there was no way in killing those _two_. It would be impossible to even stop them in someway. They worked well together, and stayed ruthless in each other’s presence.

You saw them joke around in the background, but they were also the only ones going on missions together, and the ones heading out before the others. They came back disheveled and bloody, sometimes you can even see the blood lust in their eyes when he smiled a little sharp like the edge of his knife, and the other laughed like a maniac holding a metal baseball bat with barbed wire and nails sticking out of it, blood dripping from the metal.

You knew staring would be dangerous, and keeping to your own business was how you were able to stay alive. At least for now anyway, you stared right into his eyes and he smirked, knowing for sure he was going to hunt you down and do the worst things imaginable.

If that wasn’t motivation enough to get the fuck out of the city, then you didn’t know what else will.

Walking across the street toward a grocery store, hands tucked into your work shirt pockets. You took out a twenty you had kept in case you needed it if your shit was stolen while you were moving the merchandise. Your actual bag with your wallet inside was back at the warehouse inside a locker. You couldn’t exactly go back and get it. Instead, you stepped into the grocery store that felt strange, like entering another world that was bright colors and the smell of stagnant candy and cleaning products. You bought yourself a drink and walked through the automatic doors with several quarters you managed to ask for. Glancing around, the sky was a tinted baby blue with yellow streaks coming from the horizon, while the streets were still empty and quiet.

You meandered toward the payphone and stuck a few quarters inside, and dialed a number. Waiting, you weren’t sure if it was too early, or maybe you should hold out until there were more people and traffic out. You were the only person that looked suspicious in your grey uniform, and hat you didn’t bother dropping.

“Hello?” a groggy voice on the other line answered.

“Hey,” you said, a little urgent. “I need your help. Really fucking badly.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I need you to come pick me up...my bosses fucking went crazy and they killed all the workers in the warehouse and—”

“Hey, calm down, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Breathing through clenched teeth, you leaned your head against the phonebooth and spoke more slowly. “I need you to come pick me up. Right now. I have to leave the city. I’ll give you money...as much as I can get it anyway.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right no—”

A black car appeared around the corner and came to a fast stop in the middle of the road. You gasped, dropping the phone and bolted toward the corner around the grocery store as a man shoved open the passenger door and chased after you.

You didn’t look back, not when a gunfire made you move faster along the road to the sidewalk. Another gunfire and you felt the harsh whistle go past your ear, momentarily making you go deaf.

You felt fingers grasp the back of your collar and yank you off your foot where you stumbled and slammed into the asphalt. The roads were still empty, but you spotted in a split second lights behind you when you turned on your side, and you were about to get up, but a gun was pointed at you face, making you freeze.

“Did you think you could get away from us?” Ohmwrecker asked, grinning down at you, his mask slightly obscuring his face, and his grey hood covered his head, bunny ears hung from the sides. A little sinister looking as he reached down and grasped your arm, pulling you to your feet, the gun pointed to the side of your head. He let go of your arm, and pulled out a phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “You must think we’re so fucking stupid.”

“How did you find me?” you asked him, knowing that if you moved, he’d shoot your brains out and that would be it for your cat-and-mouse game with these people.

“Followed your trail when I found my truck in the drive through of some drug addict,” Ohmwrecker answered, placing the phone to his ear, “and once I dealt with them, I continued asking myself where something like you would go off too. Then I get a phone call from Vanoss and Delirious that they hunted down your friend, Ethan, and shoved him off his balcony in front of you." You got away from them, which is quite a feat. They’re usually more competent.”

“And?” you asked, noticing whoever Ohmwrecker was trying to call, they weren’t answering. He dialed again and placed the phone to his ear.

“And? I knew you would try to find a new friend, so we had the others look for them. Lui supplied us with your background information. What he found confused him, said he'll have to make some calls, but it made sense why Wildcat and Terroriser lost you in your little chase.” And then Ohmwrecker slammed the gun into the back of your head, making you stumble forward, a shaky gasp leaving your lips before you were straightened once more when Ohmwrecker pulled you back where the gun was firmly placed in position above your ear. “That’s for Moo, by the way. He’s still alive, had to get someone to patch him up and take him to the hospital. We don’t need the police suspecting anything just yet. It’s not their priority until we’ve taken care of—Hey, Wildcat.” Someone finally answered, which made you grit your teeth, unsure of how you were getting out of here. “Yeah. What do you want me to do now? Bring them back?”

You stared at the houses and apartment buildings in front of you. Wondering how the people inside would think if they found you and Ohmwrecker standing in the street, Ohm pointing a gun at you. What would the police do? Ignore them.

Whatever their hold is on the city, it was frightening, and you wanted nothing to do with it.

“Alright, I’ll be back with the prize.” And the second he hung up, his smirk telling you everything they’re planning. You thought of the time when you didn’t live in this city, when the voice in your ear told you what to do when things gone dire.

You turned, grasped the barrel of the gun and pointed up. Ohmwrecker had pulled the trigger, the warmth didn’t stop you from yanking the gun from his hold, slamming the butt into his face and watching as he stumbled back and landing on the road, blood falling from his nose as his face screwed up, and then you pointed the gun on him.

Ohmwrecker chuckled. “You know who we are...you wouldn’t fucking do it.”

You smiled at him. “That only shows how little you and all of them know _me._ ” And you pulled the trigger. Ohmwrecker’s mouth opened, choking back a gasp, but you didn’t stay to watch, instead you tossed the gun to the side and sprinted up the road, away from another member of their gang you had shot under five hours, and ran towards his abandoned car.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you found the keys still in the ignition and started it up. The problem about what happened is that your phone call was possibly intercepted, which allowed Ohmwrecker to find you while he was searching for your trail. You had to go for your friend before his life is also taken.

You drove down the street, past the one where Ohmwrecker still laid on the road. You weren’t sure if he was dead, but didn’t want to linger on that thought for too long. Your friend's address was on your mind as panic stayed fixated in your head. You wanted to stay calm, but with the tension rising, and the memory of what happened to Ethan still fresh, you could barely breathe until you came to a stop in a tight alley. Getting out, you walked through a thin walkway and into a crappy overgrown yard.

The sun was rising and the light blue color of the house revealed the paint peeling off the sides and several writings of other gangs, including love confessions, and swear words. You knocked on the backdoor, kicking it once until the deadbolt was unlocked and the door swung open.

Your friend with stringy brown hair stood in the doorway, he wore a simple white t-shirt and sweats. “Shit, I was about to head out.”

“Fuck off,” you said, shaking your head, “I wasn’t joking, and I’m still not. Pack your bag full of important shit and let’s go.”

“Go where?” he asked, turning and heading for his bedroom.

"Somewhere that isn't here," you said, stepping into the house and smelled the strong aroma of stale noodles that sat on the cupboard, including an empty carton of milk, and a forgotten sandwich. Looking away, you heard him piling clothes into a bag, several pictures, his bank cards and other identification, and walked out with a black sweater that was unzipped, and a cap covering his hair.

You lead him toward the car sitting in the alley.

“Is the car stolen?” he asked, opening the passenger door.

“It was that or walk. But if I walked,” you said, starting the car and making your way down the alley, “you’d probably be dead.”

“Then we should ditch it once we’re out of the city,” he said, hugging his bag and learning against the glass. “They might have a tracker on it like his truck...right?”

You nodded. “Yeah. That was how he was able to find it.” And you managed to get two innoceny people killed, including Ethan, which was not your intention in the least.

Cars began to pile the streets, and more people appeared on the sidewalks. The cluster made you calmer, but slowed you down as you drove on the highway.

“You said...there was a mole, right?” he asked, still leaned against the glass. “Was that true or did they just want to commit massacre?”

You shook your head, eyes burning as the sun ascended, brightening the dark blue, and fading out the stars. “There was a mole.”

“There was?” he asked.

You nodded, and gave him a weak smile. “It was me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, I had no idea who was the mole until half way through. It was just a plot point that created the conflict and I had 3 options. It was either the mc, the overseer since the dude seemed sketchy at the beginning, or the BBS was using it as an accuse to kill people which I guess would fit a psychopath, but they're running a business, there would be no point. I guess the actual reason isn't great either. Killing them instead of interrogating them. Whatever, it's my story and I'm tired. 
> 
> Btw, I have no idea who the guy at the end is. The mc randomly picks him out of fear of losing him too. Let's call this dude Todd or something. 
> 
> I was thinking of expanding this idea but not now. I'm busy with other stuff. :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.


	9. What Kind Of Demon Are You? • h2ovanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan sees his teacher, Mr. Johns, kill a demon, and panics for his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously this isn't as fleshed out since it's more of a flash fic. I saw this prompt on Pinterest that I skimmed over and decided to write a story. :D I'm still trying to practice my romance because I need to do that. Also this has a sort of OOC feel to it since I wrote it quickly. HAHA! 
> 
> WARNING: Demon AU. Established Romance. Panic. Swearing. Mild. Kissing. Boys Kissing. Domestic Fluff. (Halloween Month)
> 
> Words: 810
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Evan’s mouth was open, his body slightly leaned against the brick corner of the school building. He leaned back slowly, keeping his breathing calm. He never thought he would see his teacher killing a small creature with dark green skin, holding a stick, and handing it to him as a greeting. It was atrocious, and his teacher swore he’d kill all of them in any realm they thrived in. 

It was enough for Evan to sprint away from the school, past the fence, and down the street toward his car. He fumbled with his phone that was tucked a little too comfortably in his black jeans and dialed Jonathan’s number. He drove away, gritting his teeth, making sure he wasn’t about to make a mistake by hitting another car, or even a person. It wasn’t the time to deal with other people right now. 

“What?” Jonathan answered, his voice groggy from just waking up.

Evan sucked in a breath, trying to smooth out his panic. “Mr. Johns is a demon hunter.”

“Okay?” Jonathan answered, and if Evan was there, he could already see him closing his eyes, mind muddled from sleep.

“Demon,” Evan emphasized a little louder, “hunter!”

“I heard you,” Jonathan said.

“He’s going to kill you!”

“Let’s not overthink things, Evan.”

His heart raced at the thought of Mr. Johns stabbing his iron stake into his boyfriend’s chest, cursing at him as Jonathan turns grey, and once he pulls the stake out, he’ll turn into ash. Not something Evan wants to experience, and he doesn’t understand why Jonathan isn’t freaking out as much as he should be. 

“He’s going to fucking kill you!” Evan straightened the car when it swerved, and then he came to a quick stop at a red light, breathing hard into the receiver.

“Are you driving?”

“I was just at the school…” Evan said, frowning at the people walking by, “when I saw my fucking teacher kill some little demon thing, and proclaim he’s going to kill all demons!”

“Calm down,” Jonathan said, his voice less soothing than Evan hoped it would be. 

He drove fast once the light turned green. “He might be on his way to murder you, you fucking idiot. Get up, get dressed, and fucking pack your shit. We’re leaving.”

“We’re not leaving,” Jonathan said, yawning into the phone, and then he hung up.

Evan dropped the phone, gaping. “Mr. Johns beat me to him. Fuck!” The rest of the drive was agonizing, and Evan finally came to a swift stop in front of their house. He got out, almost stumbling toward the front door, and thinking the door was unlocked, slammed into it. 

“Fuck sakes…” Evan recovered and banged his hand against the door before looking for his keys, before he could shove it into the keyhole, the door unlocked, and Jonathan appeared in the doorway, frowning at him. 

“What are you doing?” Jonathan asked, their blue blanket wrapped around his body. 

Evan shoved him back into the house. “He’s going to kill you!”

“A lot of things could kill me,” Jonathan said, walking over to him and wrapping Evan into the blanket with him, then dragging him back to the bedroom, “but if you keep freaking out about this, then Mr. Johns is going to find me and all you’ll find is a carcass in this little shit house of ours.”

“You’ll be ash,” Evan said, then he grunted when they fell onto the bed. 

Jonathan dragged him closer to him, wrapping his leg over Evan’s. “I’m not a lesser demon, Evan. I’m not going to turn into ash if someone stabs me with iron.”

“Aren’t you a vampire?”

Jonathan chuckled, which resonated with Evan who was pressed against his chest. “Yes, I’m a vampire who opened the door for you and squinted at the bright sun. Right now, you passed out because your boyfriend turned into a plume of fucking ash.”

Evan pushed against his chest and glared at him. “I’m serious.”

Jonathan laid on his back, stretching his arm over his head, and smiling at Evan. “I’m just wondering why you think I’m a vampire of all things. You know they’re also lesser demons as well, right?”

“I only thought you were since you only wake up at night.”

“And that makes me a vampire?”

Evan shrugs, feeling ashamed of overthinking. “Sorry?”

Jonathan grinned, his eyes changed to a bright blue color. “No one’s going to kill me,” he tugged Evan closer to him, and he leaned up, “they’ve tried for a long, long time, and I’m still here.”

Jonathan kissed Evan, and all Evan’s previous thoughts of his teacher faded from his head. “What kind of demon are you?”

Jonathan hummed, his eyes stayed the bright blue color as he looked into Evan’s, “All you need to know is that I’m not a lesser demon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this idea tbh. I might expand upon it after I'm finished all of my current ideas. So I'll let this simmer until then. :D
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed this flash fic. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


	10. No Drinks But A Mario Kart Game • Basicallyido407

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically and his friends are hanging out at a house party, but Basically spends time playing Mario Kart with Fourzer0seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a BasicallyIDo407 story, but it was dark, and had a sad ending. :/ I was wondering why I was writing my first BasicallyIDo407 fic with a bad ending. So I deleted that fic and wrote this. :) I wanted to make it fluffy and simple, nothing too difficult.  
> I've been having mental health troubles lately. :/ So, I'm not entirely sure if my creativity will be a part of my writing until I feel better. 
> 
> Warning: Hints of Krii7y, H2oVanoss, MiniCat. - Subtle Soul Mate Mark AU - Kisses, fluffy kissing, romantic. M/M. BasicallyIDo407. Mentions of alcohol and drugs. Mild swearing. Established Relationship(s).
> 
> I hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

Basically pushed past several people inside the house party. Holding red plastic cups he got from the kitchen where a punch bowl sat half filled. He thought it was a little weird, but filled the cups and carried them to the living room. He spotted Fourzer0seven on the leather couch beside Vanoss and Smii7y. The three of them playing Mario Kart, and they sucked. They seriously sucked. 

“I hate this game,” Vanoss said, getting up from the couch and scowling, “where’s Delirious?” 

“Outside with Tyler and Mini,” Basically answered.

“Please don’t tell me they’re in the alley again?” Vanoss asked, taking one of the cups in Basically’s hand and walking away.

“Hey!”

“Do you know where John is?” Smii7y asked, dropping the controller beside Fourzer0seven who was smiling up at Basically.

“You’re bonded to him, use your brand.”

Smii7y scowled, raising his wrist, “It’s not a homing device. I can’t point my wrist and—” He arched his brows when Kryoz entered the room, looking confused and maybe a little bored. “Hey. Maybe it is a homing device. John!” He reached for the other drink in Basically’s hand and stumbled toward Kryoz who noticed him. 

“Mother fuckers,” Basically said, glaring.

“Sit with me,” Fourzer0seven said, patting the seat beside him and grabbing the controller to move it out of Basically’s way. 

He sighed and plopped down. “I was getting drinks for us but those fuckers—”

“I know,” Fourzer0seven said, passing him the controller. “Play with me.”

Basically grinned. “Not in a room filled with people.”

Rolling his eyes, he laughed.  “Alright, smartass, I meant at Mario Kart.”

He took up the controller Vanoss was previously using, and said, “I’m going to kick your ass, Scott.”

Fourzer0seven started up a eight round match. “So you went for drinks, offered to  _ play with me, _ and now you’re going to kick my ass.” He nudged Basically in the arm. “Make up your mind, Marcel.”

“You know what I mean,” Basically said, and they played the game. Basically mostly yelling, and Fourzer0seven shoving him to the side so he could win a round. 

“Fuck, I hate this game,” Basically muttered, placing the controller beside him, waiting for another round to start up. 

Humming, Fourzer0seven leaned closer to him. “Really?”

Basically glanced at him. “Yes?”

Chuckling, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek, and then another, and another. Basically laughed, turning his head to kiss Fourzer0seven on the mouth, but he moved back.  “Games starting.”

“For fuck sakes.”

Fourzer0seven laughed.

Basically felt his mouth on his face, a soft warmth that ached inside his chest. He felt the burn in his wrist where his brand sat when he and Fourzer0seven bonded. It happened during a life and death situation, and their bond snapped together. It was right. He always knew it was right from the moment it happened. 

He smiled too much after that, and Fourzer0seven was at his side, saying things that was on his mind, knowing exactly what Basically felt and thought. A bond that connected each other together. That made their world finally feel real. 

Another round came to an end, and Basically didn’t bother to let Fourzer0seven win. He dropped the controller to the side, and pushed Fourzer0seven against the couch, kissing his face and listening to the beautiful sound of his laughter leaving his lips. 

“I love you,” he murmured, leaning up to press their mouths together in a lingering peck.

Basically hummed, turning his head to deepen the kiss. Murmuring that he loved him as well, but with the sound of the next round, and someone clearing their throat. They were forced apart to see Vanoss and Lui standing at the end of the couch. 

“We’re leaving,” Lui said, smiling.

“Already?” Fourzer0seven asked, leaning forward and wrapping his fingers around Basically’s wrist, helping him to stand from the couch. 

“Delirious, Wildcat, and Mini are drunk in the alley,” Vanoss said, nodding and looking annoyed as he glared toward the hall that led to the back door of the house, “so yeah, we’re leaving right now.”

“Okay,” Basically said, mind muddled, he intertwined his fingers with Fourzer0seven. They walked to the front door and found Smii7y leaning against Kryoz on the steps. 

Smii7y tilted his head back, giving them a drunk smile. “We’re leaving?”

“Yes,” Fourzer0seven said, helping Smii7y to his feet, while Kryoz wrapped an arm around Smii7y’s shoulders, whispering into his ear and making Smii7y laugh.

A minute after, Vanoss was dragging a laughing talkative Delirious from the side of the house, while Mini had his hands tucked inside his sweater pockets, a perturbed expression sat on his face while Wildcat followed behind. 

“Why is Delirious more drunk than the two of you?” Basically asked, all of them strolling across the street to Lui’s jeep.

“Cause he’s a fucking light weight,” Wildcat snapped, glaring back at the house, “and those fuckers were drugging the alcohol. So if anyone drank any, you’re going to have a crazy few hours.”

“Yay!” Smii7y flailed his hands.

“Calm down,” Kyroz said, laughing.

Lui unlocked the vehicle once he got into the driver seat. Vanoss helped Delirious into the back seat and slammed the door so he could crawl into the passenger seat. Smii7y muttered against Kryoz about Basically’s plastic cup he and Vanoss had taken earlier. But was drowned out by Wildcat complaining. They were all squished, and with one question if they were buckled in, knowing none of them were. Lui drove off. 

“Maybe it was a good idea we didn’t drink anything,” Fourzer0seven whispered against Basically, his head leaned in the crook of his neck.

Basically nodded, pressing a kiss to his head. “It was a wonderful idea.”

“By the way, I beat you at Mario Kart.”

“For fuck sakes.”


	11. My Name • vanii7y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He noticed something was wrong all around him, and it becomes worse when his best friend calls him a name that isn't his name, he's sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I wanted to write a Vanii7y fanfic, but I couldn't figure out how to write one. I looked on some scifi prompts, and I found one that unfurled inside my head. This is quite short, mostly because I don't want to add the entire thing and reveal too much. Yes, I'll be making this a stand alone when I'm finished my current fanfics. :D 
> 
> Word Count: 559
> 
> WARNING: Scifi. Cyberpunk elements. Memory loss. Glitch. Confusion. Friendship. Mind Manipulation. Psychological Thriller. Subtle elements. Not as intense since it's quite short. Only Smii7y and Kryoz are in the chapter btw. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

It happened too many times for him to not notice it. He glanced to one side and the shadows would recede, or the TV would glitch, spasm before him, speaking to him. He didn’t understand why that was. He would eat his food, talk to his mom over the phone, and wait for his friends to message him for another round of game play. Except, he couldn’t let go of the wrong feeling. Sleeping was harsh.

It was raining, but he pulled back the curtain and the sky was clear. He’d walk outside and he’d hear the sound of the pitter patter, but nothing would be on his skin. He’d wake up the next morning, and his hair was stringy, and he’d take a shower. There was no rain.

“Something’s wrong,” he told his best friend, John.

“What do you mean?” John asked, smiling on the other side of the video chat.

He shrugged. “I keep seeing things that aren’t there, but it’s happening.”

“Maybe it is happening,” he said.

Shaking his head. “I don’t know.” Looking down at his hands, he reached for his phone and turned it on, all his friend’s names were gone from his contacts. Flickering in and out of it.

“Something’s wrong,” he repeated.

“Maybe nothing’s wrong,” John responded.

“No. Something _is_ wrong…You have to believe me.”

“I do believe you, Smii7y.”

He frowned, staring at his best friend through the video chat. “What did you say?”

John tilted his head to the side, smiling. “I said, I do believe you, Smii7y.”

_That name._

“Why did you call me that?”

“Why?” John chuckled, “it’s because that’s your name.”

_My name. That’s my name._

An off kilter acceptance inside his head, over and over, it replays, but never truly sticks. He writes down the name several times. Trying to find a familiarization from it, but nothing. He looks through his archives, his folders within his computer, in his channel, in everything he comes across. The name is everywhere. And a lot of people have called him that.

“How long has my name been like that?” he asked, two hours later when he called John back.

“What do you mean? Are you okay, Smii7y?”

The name irks him, and he paces back and forth in his living room. Curling his fingers before him as he tries thinking of what his name was before.

“Answer the question, please, John.”

John was a little distracted, looking at something else when he answers, “I don’t know. You’ve always had that name.”

He stops, looks at the screen. “My parents don’t call me that.”

“I mean, it would be weird if they didn’t. They named you that.”

“Smitty?” he asked, incredulous, “with a seven stuck at the end?”

John shrugs. “Why can’t you accept it’s you name?” he asked, taking out a vape and sucking in, and he watches as John blows out a plume of vapor.

He leans on his desk and stares his best friend in the eyes, and he’s adamant because he knows when something feels wrong, and this was wrong, and he doesn’t know how long it’s been wrong. Everything was a flickering glitch, including his best friend who stopped for a moment, before moving once more. His gaze empty and dead like NPC’s were.

And he says, confident and angry, “Because it’s not my name.”


	12. Buy Me Pizza • h2ovanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delirious was given a contract to assassinate and bury a body, and Vanoss tagged a long, but Vanoss is sick, and to make it worse, some people have come to collect the body from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REQUESTED BY: ALYBUNISME on Tumblr. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I was about to fuck this fic up tbh. This fic took almost all day to write cause I only knew the beginning, and by the end, it wouldn't fucking end. LMFAO. I had to delete a portion and rewrite it cause it just wouldn't end. It's one of those stories, you know. HAHAHA! I finished it of course. Btw, the title sucks, my creativity is gone, so I guess...deal with it. :D
> 
> Word Count: 3411 (It wouldn't end. lol.)
> 
> WARNING: SICK AU. H2OVANOSS. Mention of several other BBS members. Swearing. Dead Bodies. Vague Assassination. Mild Violence. Fluff. Platonic-romance. Cuddling. Mild romance. Worry. Vague GTA5 Setting...I did research and I merged two fucking places that aren't connected. LMFAO. Ignore that. :/ 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. :) 
> 
> Comment and/or Kudo's are appreciated. (This took longer than usual, I sacrificed updating several stories, so please...some validation.) :D

“Why are we always ending up in weird places?” Vanoss asked, frowning.

Delirious smiled behind his mask. “You never complained before.” Not like there was anything to complain about when they were standing on a side of a dirt covered road on the outside of the city. The bright round moon shone down upon them while several trees covered their cars that were several feet away.

Vanoss wore black jeans, sneakers, and a black jacket. He was holding an owl mask in his gloved covered hand, and his other hand was tucked inside his pocket. He looked less discreet, but Delirious couldn’t discount himself since he was wearing a blue sweater and simple black jeans with rips on the knees. His shoes weren’t entirely black like Vanoss’s, they had a white strip on the side that was slightly stained by dirt.

“I’m complaining now,” he said, and he followed Delirious toward his car. Not exactly his car, a stolen car from a person that was tied up inside the trunk. He unlocked the trunk and pushed it open.

He and Vanoss stared down at the body. Partially naked with short brown hair, matte with blood, several cuts layered their arm and their sleeve was torn.

“You got rid of the other stuff?” Vanoss asked, tilting his head, he pulled out his cellphone and a bright light appeared upon the body, the blood had dried on their skin, while the wounds had festered and clotted.

“I’m not an amateur,” Delirious remarked.

“Wildcat thinks so,” Vanoss says, tapping his phone with an audible click and a photo was saved to his album.

Delirious took off the mask and sniffled at the stench of blood, sweat, and something else he didn’t want to think about. “I already did that.”

“I’m being careful,” Vanoss said, tucking his phone back inside his pocket. “What do you want to do exactly?”

Delirious gritted his teeth. It wasn’t what he thought it would be, but it turned out to be anyway. He decided to take someone out. Blood covered his hands, and he recalled the muffled screaming when the man tried biting his hand before he slit his throat. At first, he was stealthy, staring down upon the city from The Galileo Observatory. The sun had set an hour ago, and there were still people wandering around, most were taking pictures, or having one of those nights with their loved ones in a chaotic rhythm of seduction, boredom, or spontaneous exploration.

He wished he was one of those people, but he was alone, touching a gun within his blue sweater that was tucked inside a holster wrapped around his torso. He was staring down at his burner phone and was contacted by Moo that the target was almost to the location. Another easily read schedule firmly grasped upon their social media pages. The guy enjoyed late nights out at the observatory, he also liked spending time with women that were several years younger than him.

One of those women was the daughter of a crime boss who ordered his assassination. Forty thousand for confirmation of his death, and another forty thousand for his disappearance.

Moo had Lui destroy all social media sites the man currently had since he first laid hands on the internet. At least once they dug a suitable hole and stuck him in it.

Delirious reached into the trunk, holding his breath and wrapped his fingers around a shovel. He pulled it out and passed it to Vanoss, then he grasped the other.

“You want to do the hole first?”

Delirious chuckled. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

They wandered away from the vehicle and walked from the dirt road and past several trees. The moon was their only witness, but soon it wouldn’t be as the valley opened up and they walked into the shadows of sprawling trees with extended branches reaching for the sky.

Delirious found a place amongst several bushes that was fifteen feet from a river, they placed their masks and Delirious’s burner phone down, and they began to dig. The exertion was light for awhile. They were tired and hungry. Vanoss’s stomach grumbled and he chuckled in response.

“Are you okay?” Delirious asked him as they were heading back for the body. He noticed something while they were digging that Vanoss was panting too much, usually he was fine with physical exertion, but this time, he looked hazy, and he stopped a few times to wipe sweat from his face.

“I think I’m getting sick,” Vanoss muttered.

“You think?” Delirious asked, stopping. “We’re burying a body, Vanoss.”

“I don’t think he’s going to get sick,” Vanoss said, giving him a small smile. “Can we please get this done so I can go home and sleep?”

Delirious nodded, but before he could take a step, a gun had gone off and something went by his and Vanoss’s head. He knelt down, his gun already in his hand and pointed toward a group of trees. Vanoss was beside him, tilting his head to the side.

“Four?”

“I think so,” Delirious said, glaring past the leaves of a bush they were hiding behind. He could see outlines around the trees. “Shit. They’re taking the body.”

“And there goes our cut,” Vanoss said, shaking his head, “now what?”

He’d say _kill them_ for taking what’s not theirs, but he wasn’t sure if he and Vanoss could fight four of them at once. Two moved around the tree, focusing their guns as they searched for him and Vanoss.

Delirious fired his gun, shooting a woman in the leg as she screamed and grunted when she hit the ground. The other fired their rounds, forcing him and Vanoss to move from their spot.

Vanoss let his gun spit out bullets, shooting the second in the shoulder before another bullet slid into the skin between his eyes. His body slumped to the ground, tumbling slightly off the incline of the ground.

The other two were running the other way, but a fifth appeared with an automatic gun, and Delirious reached for Vanoss, grasping his arm and dragging him away from the perimeter.

“What the fuck? We had them,” Vanoss yelled.

“There’s more,” Delirious said, sprinting on the dirt road and turning a corner, they climbed a hill that lead toward the train tracks. In seconds, they heard guns going off in their direction, several flying by them, but they were getting closer and closer as Delirious pulled Vanoss along the track until they were slightly in the center of two valleys and the lake sitting below them.

Unfortunately, a train appeared from a tunnel on the other side.

“For fuck sakes,” Vanoss said, pulling his hand away from Delirious, “This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day!”

Delirious glanced back at the men and women who were laughing at them, they were yelling at the train to hurry up. He looked around them, but there was no way in hell they were getting out of this. “Too bad,” he told Vanoss, grabbing his hand again. “On three, we jump. Ready?”

Vanoss gaped, uncertain, he said, “Okay.”

Delirious grinned, “Three.” And they both jumped from the train tracks. Both of them screaming, and Delirious, mostly laughing.

When they hit the water, all Delirious could feel was ice spiraling throughout his entire body. The pain from breaking the surface was slightly hinged on his mind, while the other was wondering where Vanoss was. He moved his arms until he gasped for air once he rose from the murky depths. Glancing around and wiping water from his eyes, he reached for Vanoss who was swimming toward him.

“I’m hungry,” Vanoss mumbled, brows pinched.

“I know,” Delirious said, holding his arm and they swam to the shore, “we’ll go back to your place—”

“And order pizza,” Vanoss added, coughing.

“I’ll make you soup, and feed you that instead.”

“Who’s going to eat the pizza?” Vanoss asked, frowning at him.

“Me,” Delirious answered with a smirk.

They were interrupted by a barrage of bullets and yelling. Delirious—feeling sluggish from the fall and his clothes were heavy, also his gun was missing—grabbed Vanoss’s hand and sprinted toward the pathway under the bridge.

“Do you have your gun?” Delirious asked, feeling Vanoss tighten his hold on his hand.

“Yeah,” Vanoss said, pointing up and firing.

He was warm, not because of the adrenaline, but because of his sickness. Why didn’t he say anything? Guilt wormed its way into Delirious’s mind, but he was distracted when he heard a scream and he turned to see one of the men hiding amongst the side of the tracks tumble away from the others they were with. Standing and mumbling to each other as they fired their weapons.

“I can’t…” Vanoss gasped, stumbling forward and using Delirious as leverage, “everything is dark.”

Delirious skidded to a stop amongst the dirt and grass, which startled Vanoss when Delirious pulled him closer and situated Vanoss behind him. He slipped the gun from his hand and raised it at the shooters above them. Vanoss leaned his head against his back, his fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater to keep himself balanced. Delirious listened to his heavy breathing and it spurred him to find his targets in the shadow of the trees and the bridge.

Delirious shot two of them and watched the others run off. They didn’t have guns and from the way they were running, they didn’t want to get killed by two professionals who decided to bury a body in the middle of nowhere, jump off a train track, and kill several of their friends. They should’ve ran off before they decided to get into this shit.

Delirious dropped his hand and slowly turned around, but when he did, Vanoss fell to his knees and panted. Delirious knelt down in front of him, setting the gun on the ground between them. He covered Vanoss’s forehead with his hand and frowned at how warm he was getting from fifteen minutes ago.

“You’re sick.”

“No shit,” Vanoss muttered.

Delirious moved his hand down to Vanoss’s cheek and he watched him lean into it, panting with his eyes closed. He was vulnerable, fighting people in this kind of condition, and yet not saying anything. Delirious could only feel guilt, he wanted to take him home, cover him with blankets and make sure he was okay.

“Can we go?” he asked.

Delirious nodded. He helped Vanoss to his feet and they meandered back to their vehicles. The vehicle was still there except the  front window was smashed.

Vanoss chuckled.

“Shut up.” Delirious walked over the glass that crackled under his feet and opened the trunk. The body was still inside, and the smell of decay hit him in the face. “Holy fuck.”

Vanoss covered his nose and mouth. “Let’s hurry up and finish this so the asshole doesn’t permanently stink up the car.”

Delirious wrapped the dead body in a tarp that he didn’t need and pulled it from the trunk. Vanoss stood five feet away, coughing by himself on the dirt road, holding his gun, and making sure they aren’t shot at again.

Delirious kept the trunk open so it could air out while Vanoss helped lift the body, and they both carried it toward the hole they dug.

“Why the fuck,” Vanoss muttered, “didn’t we carry it earlier?”

“I don’t know,” Delirious answered, but a laugh left his lips when the body accidently slipped from his fingers and Vanoss stumbled forward and almost fell on top of it. Delirious reached for him, and laughed when Vanoss glared at him.

“I’m sick,” Vanoss said, pushing his hand off of him, “and I want to go home.”

“Okay,” Delirious said, bending down to pick the body up. “I’m sorry. Okay. I’m sorry.”

Vanoss grabbed the bottom and without looking at Delirious, said, “Are you going to take care of me?”

Delirious grinned. “Of course I am.”

Vanoss breathed deeply, and lifted the body. They walked toward the hole and dumped it into it. “Who were those people anyway?” Vanoss asked, picking up his mask he left on the ground when they first started digging the hole and when they were forced to run.

Delirious grabbed the shovel and started piling dirt inside. Once they were finished, he picked up his phone that he also left beside his own mask, hidden by a bush. He furrowed his brows at the missed messages and phone calls he received from Moo and Lui.

He dialed Moo’s number as they walked back to the vehicle. “Hey. It’s done.”

“You’re alive?” Moo asked, a slight panic risen in his voice.

“Of course I am, so is Vanoss, thanks for asking.”

“I thought you were both dead,” Moo said, sounding relieved.

Delirious smirked at Vanoss, “When has death ever stopped us?”

“We got a call that some of—”

“Yeah, we know,” Delirious said, “We dealt with it.”

“All of them, cause _he_ considered it interest.”

“He can come here and count the bodies. A few got away, but let’s consider those strays and nothing more.”

Moo hummed. “Okay. I’ll tell Lui that and he’ll get into contact with the client with the information. You’ll be paid with confirmation of the bodies, including the one you assassinated and buried.”

Delirious sighed when he sat in his car with the smashed window staring at him. “Alright. I’ll be with Vanoss, he’s sick.”

“While working the job?” Moo asked.

Delirious started the car. “Whatever pays the bills, right?”

“Okay. I’ll get in contact with you tomorrow. Good night, and tell Vanoss I said goodnight.”

“I’ll pass it on.” Vanoss was shaking in the passenger seat, curled against the door. “Moo says, goodnight.”

Vanoss nodded. “Good night.”

Delirious frowned and drove away from the not-so-secluded valley until he found the main road that lead them to the intersection. He drove for thirty minutes while Vanoss shuddered and coughed. They were soaked, and it bothered Delirious that Vanoss couldn’t shoot the people were targeting them. He was vulnerable, coughing, and his forehead was hot. It was a good thing that Vanoss didn’t bring his own car, Delirious wouldn’t want him driving, and leaving the car itself would decrease their payment. They were professionals, not fucking idiots. He guessed Vanoss knew that and went with Delirious.

Once they were in the city, Delirious slowed the car in Vanoss’s driveway and got out. Vanoss was unlocking the door to his place, and he walked in after him.

“How are you feeling?” Delirious asked.

Vanoss shrugged, placing his keys down. “It’s really hot in here,” he said, taking off his sweater, and he wasn’t exactly looking at Delirious when he started to drop the holster that was around his torso onto the floor, along with his wet black shirt. “It’s hot in here.” His fingers finding his zipper.

Delirious rolled his eyes and grabbed his hands. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

“You didn’t buy me any pizza.”

“I’ll fucking buy you pizza when I know you’re not going to throw it up.”

Delirious dragged Vanoss into his bedroom where he looked through his closet for pajamas, but when he turned around, Vanoss had taken off his pants and he was kicking them away from him before falling backwards onto the bed.

“It’s so cold,” Vanoss murmured, curling onto the bed and reaching for his blankets to cover himself up.

Delirious looked down at the clothes he picked out and sighed. He knew what he was about to do, and he kinda wished he walked out of the room. However, he rolled Vanoss out of his blanket burrito and helped him into shorts, muttering to Vanoss that he wasn’t going to change his underwear for him. When he got to his shirt, Vanoss was smiling up at him, his eyes glazed over.

“What?” he asked, putting the shirt over his head and brushing away wet strands from his forehead that was heating up.

“Stay with me.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Delirious helped Vanoss put his arms through and pulled him to his feet, but Vanoss leaned closer.

“I meant with me.”

“That’s what I said.”

“In the blanket,” Vanoss whispered, turning his head, “please.”

Delirious gritted his teeth, wondering when he’ll get to wash his hands from the smell of the water they jumped into, including dirt, and the dead body. But all that had slowly faded from his head when he leaned close and said, “I have no interest in getting sick. Maybe another time.” He reached for the blanket and dragged Vanoss out of the room and down the hall to the living room.

He laid Vanoss on the couch and covered him with the blanket.

“Don’t leave.”

“What do you think I’m doing,” Delirious said, making sure he was comfortable before turning on Netflix. “Do you want any soup?”

Vanoss shook his head. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving, idiot.”

Vanoss frowned. “I’m not an idiot.”

Delirious fell asleep on the couch, and a few hours later, he wasn’t fully awake when he felt a hand wrap around his own, and he was pulled to his feet.

“Where are we going?” he wondered, trying to blink the blurriness from his eyes.

“To my bedroom,” Vanoss said, his voice sounding faraway. “It’s cold sleeping on the couch.”

Delirious murmurs something, but he’s to tired. They enter Vanoss’s bedroom, light is streaming through the window. What time is it? He’s pulled down onto the soft bed and against a warm body, a bit too warm that it reminds him of what happened a few hours ago, of the dead bodies, and the sharp sound of bullets flying by them. They were always lucky when it came to violence like that. Escaping from the pressure of pain that rip through skin and bone.

Delirious lays on his side, leaning his head back when he feels an arm wrap around him, and a blanket covering his body.

“Come here,” Vanoss whispers.

And Delirious rolls towards him, wrapping his arms around Vanoss’s body. He whispers against his warm forehead. “You’re hot.”

Vanoss chuckled. “And you’re an idiot.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not when I’m sick,” Vanoss comments, pulling his leg through Delirious, trying to get comfortable.

Delirious groans, listening to Vanoss cough into his shoulder. “You’re going to fucking get me sick.”

“When has that ever stopped you from sleeping with me?” Vanoss asked, laughing.

Delirious is too tired to argue, and the bed is comfortable, and Vanoss is nice to sleep against. And he falls asleep. He manages to wake up two hours later, Vanoss gone from the bed, and the bathroom door was closed with a light under the door telling him he was in there taking a shower.

Delirious reached for his sweater he had somehow taken off while he was sleeping and pulled out his phone. He blinked at the bright light and stared at Lui’s text message.

_You’ve been paid the 60% for assassination of the main target, including the others that came up to four bodies, and burial. Vanoss has been paid 15% for assistance of assassinating the four bodies and burial. The rest of the payment goes to me. :) Have a good day in bed._

“Mother fucker.”

“What?” Vanoss asked, entering the room with new clothes and wet dark hair. He laid back down in the bed and rolled his way toward Delirious.

“He took his twenty-five percent.”

“Again?”

Delirious placed his phone under the pillow and scowled when he wrapped his arms around Vanoss. “Yes. Again.”

“He does issue the contracts.”

“Whatever, I want the hundred percent, next time.”

Vanoss coughed a few times, pushing the blankets away from him. “Can you please...buy me pizza now?”

“You’re sick.”

He scoffed, reaching for Delirious’s phone under the pillow. “Didn’t stop me digging up a hole for some dude you assassinated, jumping into cold fucking water, and killing people.”

“I mostly killed those people.”

“Whatever. I want my fucking pizza.”

Delirious rolled his eyes, and pressed his lips to Vanoss’s forehead, taking the phone from his hand. “Fine. I’ll get you the damn pizza.”

Vanoss spread out onto the bed, sniffling. “Finally.”

Delirious grinned as he rolled off the bed. “But I’m making you soup, and you better fucking eat that before you eat the pizza.”

“Fuck sakes, Delirious, you asshole!”

Delirious laughed, and said into his phone, “Hi. Can I order for delivery?”


	13. Blood-Stained Hands • h2ovanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanoss and Delirious kill people and have fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. This is REQUESTED BY: luhans-xiumin on Tumblr. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a lot shorter than the last fic I did. I really just wanted to write something small and not so complicated because I'm either having an existential crisis or a mental breakdown. I've gone through them since October started, and my writing is suffering ffs. :/ 
> 
> WARNING: Blood. Boys Kissing. Fluff. Murderer. Massacre. Love. Boys in Love. Soft romance with dark undertone. Flash Fic.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

Vanoss fell back onto the grass, his knife slipped from his fingers and laid inches away. He marveled at the gore, at the extremist effort he had put in when the campers were littered throughout the field. All of them gazing at the dark sky with scattered stars. It was beautiful. A simple night, but not so much when Vanoss left the darkness of the trees and smiled his way over to them. There were a lot, but since most of them didn’t seem to know each other exactly, it was easy for him to stake his claim on a few. 

And in a flurry of motion, he stabbed his knife through a guy with short brown hair, his eyes widened as Vanoss pulled the knife from his shoulder and fell with him on the ground. Stabbing the knife in and out continuously until his blood had splattered on his clothes and his owl mask.

He laughed when the others began to run. He rose with the knife in his hand, and spotted something in the darkness. Waving his hand, he rushed for a girl, grabbing her long dyed blonde hair and yanked her back. She screamed when she lost her footing, and the second she fell on the grass, he stabbed her in the neck. He went for the others, laughing with their screams, and in a quick succession. Most of them ended up dead.

He pulled the owl mask off his face and breathed in the night air. He looked over at a dark form laughing several feet away. Stabbing his knife into the dead victim and getting to his feet. He made his way over to Vanoss, a stalking creature, a predator, and he sat down and fell on top of Vanoss.

“Delirious,” Vanoss said, laughing.

He pulled the hockey mask off and held the side of Vanoss’s face, kissing him on the mouth. “You couldn’t wait for me?” he asked against his lips.

Vanoss smiled, “You were taking forever, and they were in the field like little sheep. I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Delirious grunted, pressing a finger under Vanoss’s eye. “I think I smeared more of the blood.”

“Idiot.” Vanoss wiped it away with the sleeve of his black sweater. 

Delirious took his hand, and Vanoss felt the sticky wetness between Delirious’s fingers. They sat on the grass and stared at the dark sky. The silence eased their beating hearts, and adrenaline coursing through their veins. The heat seeps into his pores, and the euphoria evaporates.

Vanoss smiles wider.  _ I’m not alone. _ He leaned over to Delirious who turned, and he pressed their lips together, holding onto him until Delirious is on his back, and they open their mouths. Lost in the chaos they created and silenced. 

“I love you,” he whispers, opening his eyes.

Delirious grins. “I love you too.” 

They rise from the ground, holding hands and picking their knives up. They leave the heavily blood stained field with bodies scattered on the ground, occupying the forgotten bags and tents. 

They disappeared into the darkness where they came from, through the trees, hand in hand. The cops are always close to their trail when they find what they’ve done. 

Sometimes Vanoss wishes they could stop, but this was a dream, and he loved Delirious. He’d rather stay in this place, surrounded by darkness and blood, then return to the light. 

That was all that mattered.


	14. We Have A Problem • Krii7y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smii7y tried making new friends, but they underestimated him, and when he returns home that is filled with people just like him. He knows that maybe new friends isn't what he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. I had this idea a long time ago, but it never took off. And I don't mean as a fanfiction, it was actually uploaded on Fictionpress, but I couldn't figure out how to write it. :/ So, I deleted it and it became a scrapped idea. I was going to write a flash fic of Smii7y and Kryoz, but I realized I was being insensitive to a rather sensitive topic and scrapped that, then I wrote this. :D 
> 
> WARNING: Super Powers AU. Platonic friends. Hint of Romance. Swearing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

Smii7y walked in the darkness of the alley, soaking wet from his hair to the soles of his shoes. His socks kept making a squishing sound every time he took a step. And he held his heavy sweater under his arm. The cold night didn’t make it any better. He shivered, holding his cellphone that was completely dried and was texting Vanoss, asking if he was home.

**Vanoss:** Nope.

**Smii7y:** :( Who’s home?

**Vanoss:** Everyone else. I’ve been gone for several hours. Sorry.

Smii7y frowned and told Vanoss that it was fine, he’ll figure a way into the house. He turned into the drive through and noticed the neighbor was sitting on the hood of his black sports car. He glanced over to him, he was slightly older with dark hair and sunglasses, he held a phone in his hand. Smii7y always found him strange as he walked up the steps and pushed the door open to the porch and when he got to the back door. It was locked. 

“Shit,” he muttered, knocking on the door, and a few times he kicked it, but no one answered. He walked from the porch where the neighbor was standing and about to sit in his car.

“No luck?” he asked.

Smii7y regarded him with an empty expression. “No.” He turned to the side of the house and noticed the light was on in Brian’s window. Rolling his eyes, he tried phoning him, but he didn’t answer. The neighbor’s car lights turned on, momentarily blinding him, but Smii7y watched him leave until the darkness swept over him again. 

He gritted his teeth, tucking his phone into his pocket. “I hate doing this,” he muttered. When he knew no one was around and that he was alone, he looked up, touched the side of the house, and he made himself light. Extremely light that he began to float, he held the edges of the brick wall until he got to the first roof that led to the room with the bright light. He crawled, letting his weight fall upon him as he knocked on the window. 

There was a shuffling noise and the blanket blocking the window was pushed to the side. Terroriser’s brows were furrowed, staring at Smii7y who made a gesture for him to open the window.

He unlocked the hatch on his side and pulled it open. “What the fuck, Smii7y? Don’t you know how to use the door?”

“No one answered, and I did call you,” Smii7y said, crawling onto the bed, and noticing Brock was in the room. He was sitting on the floor with a Xbox controller in his hands. 

“Don’t get dirt on my fucking bed.”

“Sorry,” Smii7y said, rolling off the bed.

“My phone’s not on silent,” Brock told him. 

“Okay. I’ll remember that next time,” Smii7y said, grabbing the knob to the door and pulled it open. He stepped into the dark hallway and came upon John in the hallway. 

He was rubbing his eyes, and his wet bleached blond hair was curling at the ends. “Smii7y?”

“You’re home?” Smii7y asked, frowning. “I thought you were hanging out with Wildcat tonight.”

“You’re wet,” John commented, ignoring Smii7y’s inquiries and touched the front of his soaked shirt. 

“Yeah,” Smii7y said, remembering why he returned home early, he pushed past Kryoz and entered his bedroom that was across Vanoss’s and Nogla’s, and sat beside Kryoz’s. He entered the room and pulled his clothes off while Kryoz stood in the doorway, watching him. “I was thrown into the water.”

“By who?”

“By my  _ new friends _ ,” he said in a mocking tone, pulling a clean shirt over his head. He turned around and stared at Kryoz. “It was my fault, they were drunk, and I thought maybe they were—”

“Don’t explain that bullshit to me,” John said, shaking his head. 

Smii7y nodded. “Good. Cause I hate thinking about it.” He walked past Kryoz again and they headed downstairs where Smii7y noticed Scotty and Marcel sleeping in the living room. They were lying on the leather couch with the TV turned on, the bright light blared upon their faces, but they didn’t budge. 

He walked past them to the kitchen where he began digging out items to make a smoothie. Kryoz leaned against the fridge door, watching him. 

Smii7y sighed, “Can you…?”

Kryoz nodded, he snapped his fingers, and Smii7y turned the blender on. All the noises outside of the room they stood in was shut out, and their own noises were pulled inward. 

They watched the fruit and yogurt and milk become a mix of purple and blue. Boredom wringing them dry. Smii7y more annoyed, he stopped the blender, and dumped the sweet contents into two glass cups.

“You want to play a game?” John asked, taking the offered glass and snapping his fingers. The noise around them popped. A barrier of some kind that cancelled out other noises besides who controlled it. It helped when they didn’t want anyone knowing what they were doing. 

“Yeah,” Smii7y said, trying his hardest to stop thinking about what happened thirty minutes ago. He followed Kryoz back upstairs to his bedroom, and he sat on his bed, dumping the spoon into the smoothie and placing it into his mouth. 

Normal people didn’t know about him, and he thought he could make some friends online, but they got too drunk. Too hyped up. Some of them were assholes, and they decided to shove him into the water. Smii7y reacted too slow, and his fear and adrenaline had spiked with the awkward use of his energy as he was surrounded by water. Fighting the shock, he rose to the surface and breathed in. He noticed the walkway was empty, and they were in the water with him, and most of them stared at him in shock. He knew that he flailed when he was thrown into the water, and that the water had moved with him that he must’ve hit them all with enough force to shove them into the lake with him. There was enough evidence when he noticed the walkway was wet in thick lines, like a hand had grasped them and yanked them under the water. 

He grabbed his bag that wasn’t wet, and his phone sitting inside it. He ran, knowing this wasn’t how he wanted to be revealed. Not by antagonistic accidents of people who had no idea who he was. 

He looked at Kryoz choosing what they were going to play, speaking in a low tone, and showing him a game. Smii7y nodded, giving him a small smile. Maybe he didn’t need new friends, maybe he needed something else.

After two hours of playing games, and Smii7y no longer feeling useless and exposed. The door to the room opened and Nogla appeared, his eyes wide and his skin was stained with sweat and dirt. 

“We have a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite obvious I didn't put as much effort in it. I couldn't really get into it, but I would actually like to expand on this idea. :D Maybe in the future. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.


	15. saliva • Krii7y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smii7y and Kryoz are...fucking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense, I can't write smut or romance at all. It's always so damn cringey. :/ So, I was in The Evil Within Fandom, and reading some fanfictions, and checking out some blogs, and I thought of this. And I don't think you want to know where I got the exact inspiration. lmfao. This is just to see if I can write it...and how it would turn out. Oh gosh. 
> 
> Word count: 101
> 
> WARNING: NSFW. Sorta vague NSFW, but it's quite obvious. SHORT. Krii7y. Smut. Swearing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy...or not...I don't know. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated. :)

His fingers were covered in his warm saliva and his teeth digging into the sides while he let out small pitiful moans. He was jerked forward, and he squeezed his eyes closed, and his fingers were pulled from his mouth.

“Hey, Smii7y?” a slight movement made him groan, and then the one lying beside him chuckled, “I really fucked you, didn’t I?”

He whined, reaching for him, “Cum…”

“I know. I wanted to do it the other way.” Kryoz took his wet hand and pulled him up and Smii7y found himself feeling the same stretch easing a moan from his throat. 


	16. Ring • Krii7y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smii7y jerks off Kryoz, and Kryoz proposes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I've been weirdly obsessed with Krii7y. I'm not sure why. I was doing their character anaysis's back when I was starting on Violent Nights Under A Turquoise Sky because that was when I started adding their characters. I watched Smii7y's videos to gain what kind of person he is during Rainbow Six Siege, and I tried watching a bit of Kryoz, but he was bit more explicit than Smii7y. LOL. Anyway, I really like their friendship, and I like that they don't let the fandom bother them, not how it bothers Vanoss and Delirious's friendship. So I wanted to write more about them since they rarely have a lot of fics.
> 
> Also, I'm going to stop saying I suck at romance. I'm just going to say I'm good at it and hopefully one day I'll just get better at it then my normal negativity bringing me down. :)
> 
> WARNING: EXPLICIT. Hand Job. Dirty talk? Begging. Swearing. Friends/Lovers. Mention of sex. Fluff.
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't read if you don't like Krii7y in that sort of way.
> 
> Word Count: 780
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

His mind was muddled by softness of his lips pressing against his own. They tingled from the pressure, pulling a moan from his throat.

Smii7y opened his eyes to look at the concentrated furrow of Kryoz’s brows. Turning his head, and he managed to deepen the kiss. Smii7y breathed heavily, letting out a small whimper.

“It’s okay,” Kryoz murmured, pressing small kisses along Smii7y lips, down to his cheeks, his jawline and then his neck where he was more interested in open mouth kisses upon his collarbone and shoulder where he pushed and stretched his white shirt.

Smii7y closed his eyes, head tilted back, panting. He tangled his fingers in Kryoz’s bleached blond hair. He pulled slightly, and grinned when Kryoz groaned against his neck.

He raised his head and nudged Smii7y with the side of his head, his lips near his ear as he spoke in a husky voice. “You should jerk me off.”

Smii7y rolled his eyes. “I’m not jerking you off.”

“Please.” The raspy sound of his voice gliding against the sweet tone made Smii7y’s heart race. He was already aroused, but not enough that his mind was completely hazy. “I’ll help you.” Kryoz took his hand, and Smii7y didn’t stop him.

He sucked in a breath, and then Kryoz kissed him again. The process was slow and eager, and Kryoz groaned into his mouth when Smii7y’s hand wrapped around his dick. A warming sensation filled his chest as Kryoz became more desperate when Smii7y brushed a finger against the slit before going back to jerking him off. Every few moments, he would tease him, and Kryoz bruised Smii7y’s lips in retaliation. Drawing out soft moans, and sexy groans from him, that Smii7y’s mind started to fog over from the words spilling from Kryoz’s lips every time he pulled back to catch his breath.

“Faster,” he sucked in a breath, followed by a groan, kissing under Smii7y’s eye and chuckling, “faster, Smii7y, faster.”

Smii7y smiled, kissing Kryoz to silence the groans but to feel them against his lips. “Shut up. You’re the one that wanted this.”

Kryoz nodded, humming. “We should get married.”

“We’re not getting married.”

Kryoz’s hands came up to grab Smii7y’s shoulders. “I’m serious—”

“So am I.”

“We should get married.” Kryoz pushed Smii7y down onto his back, whimpering and biting his lower lip when Smii7y’s hand let go of his dick. “Don’t stop.”

“You’re the one who pushed me,” Smii7y said, glaring.

Kryoz covered Smii7y’s body and panted into the crook of his neck. “Touch me. Please, please, touch me.”

Smii7y stared at the dim lit ceiling of the living room they were in. He licked his lips and went back to jerking off Kryoz who moaned into his ear.

“I’m close, I’m close.” Kryoz moved his hips to match Smii7y’s movements to quicken the pace.

“You’re going to cum on me,” Smii7y muttered into Kryoz’s hair, hoping he heard the complaint in his voice.

“You can cum on me,” Kryoz offered, grinning before kissing Smii7y.

“You’re not jerking me off,” Smii7y said through their kisses.

Kryoz hummed. “I’m going to jerk you off so hard you won’t even know what happened.”

Smii7y gritted his teeth, but he couldn’t deny the warmth growing in the pit of his stomach. And then he heard Kryoz gasp which he ended up roughly kissing Smii7y as he jerked his hips before tensing up.

Smii7y felt the warm cum covering his hand and the shirts they were both wearing sticking to each other. He slowly moved his hand until Kryoz whined from over stimulation, and he let go.

Kryoz pushed himself up, but he stayed situated over Smii7y. “I am serious. We should get married.”

“And I’m serious, you’re not jerking me off,” Smii7y said, wiping the cum off on Kryoz’s shirt.

“Does that mean we can get married?” Kryoz asked, smirking.

“No.”

“I’m jerking you off, then we’re getting married, and then I’ll jerk you off again, and give you the best fucking sex of your life on our honeymoon.”

Smii7y frowned, watching Kryoz fumbling with his zipper and ripping the button open. “Why can’t we have the best fucking sex now?”

Kryoz stopped and looked at him. “You want too?”

“Not on this couch.”

“Okay. My room isn’t far.”

Smii7y rolled his eyes and watched Kryoz get up from the couch, and he took Kryoz’s offered hand, and was pulled into another kiss.

He didn’t know until they were finished that Kryoz had asked again, and all Smii7y said was, “Yes,” over and over again until he came.

In a week, he was walking around with a ring on his finger, and he didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, one of the lines is inspired by a video on Rainbow Six Siege. I'm not sure what it was, but Kryoz said he was going to jerk Smii7y off (in a joking way), and that Smii7y wasn't going to know what happened. LOL.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


	17. Dead body and a coffee cup • Krii7y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kryoz is an agent working a dull case, but he meets someone who he's meant to work with, and a secret he's deciding to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write another Krii7y story because I like them...I'm not sure why. I just like the flirting and cute stuff that they are... :/ LOL. 
> 
> Anyways.
> 
> WARNING: Soulmate AU. Secret Agents. Strangers-Friends-Lovers if ever expanded upon. Fluff. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Maybe it was for the attention, maybe it was for the money, but it definitely wasn’t for the people.

Kryoz liked to tell himself this while standing on the sidelines with a semi-hot cup of coffee in his hand, the other tucked inside his coat pocket. It was seven in the morning, and he was called in from his comfortable bed to the outskirts of the city. The sun warmed the sky, but barely touched the ground a group of police officers were standing on near the dead body of a woman who was shot dead. Her body was colder than the coffee he was taking a sip of. 

He wasn’t exactly a police officer, more of a agent, an agent of the government that he wasn’t supposed to speak out loud about. Information was valuable, and he’s been working in this field for several years. They always liked recruiting young. Something about revolutions needing to be strung high when the old workers die out. Whatever that meant. 

He was hidden in the shadows mostly, given a bit of information in dossiers that are sent to him in either a physical copy or it would show up on his laptop when he would randomly scroll through the internet. 

He forgot why he was brought in, but he did recall some bad times when he’d pass out constantly from bad habits that he blamed others for. He couldn’t remember those people that much, not like any of them would remember him. He had more money than any of their parents ever earned in the last twenty years. He never bragged, another thing he wasn’t supposed to disclose to random people on the street, or the past he never dug up.

It was getting tiring. Except he wasn’t allowed to resign. The only option is a bullet to his head, either on the field or inside an office with his bosses. Options he was considering while downing the rest of his cold coffee and scowling as he tossed the plastic cup on the ground. He managed to get several of the police officer’s gazes, but he could see how empty they were, or even how many questions they wanted to ask. Except they weren’t allowed to get too close to him, nor speak to him.

What did bother him about this entire thing was that he wasn’t the only fucking agent on this job. Three others were meant to arrive, since he was the first to appear, he only spotted one leaving a sleek black car that drove away minutes after he showed up, and the guy liked to talk. 

Kryoz looked at him from across the parking lot near the dead body. The guy was younger than him with brown hair, a bit average height, and was wearing black and white sneakers, a black sweater and blue jeans. Something Kryoz wouldn’t have expected, nor any of the police officers. He’s seen more cleaner cut workers than him, but maybe that’s what appealed to Kryoz the most. The guy didn’t seem to give a shit what others thought of him. All he did was smile and gather information without looking toward Kryoz since he arrived. They always kept to their business, but he wasn’t stupid not to get more information on other agents. Some didn’t work in the same department as he did, others had different organizations to appease. 

This guy was closer to him than he thought. 

Jaren Smith. 

He worked for another section, but Kryoz had never come upon him before. He was as hidden as he was. A little too happy and maybe immature for this job, but Kryoz was told the same thing a week ago by another employee. Something about sexual innuendos that Kryoz decided to block out and walk away from. He didn’t need to be lectured. 

The crisp wind kissed Kryoz’s neck, and he let out a shiver. He took out his phone, stared at his new directives. 

“You got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered. 

_ Play nice with SMii7y.  _

He deleted the message. “How about no.”

“You’re quite preoccupied for someone who’s meant to be looking over the evidence of a dead girl.”

Kryoz blinked and looked up. Jaren stood in front of him, smiling. He hadn’t even noticed that he walked over to him during that time thinking about something he couldn’t remember. 

Kryoz tucked his phone back into his pocket and said, “If it weren’t for the pay, this wouldn’t even be a  _ thought _ .”

Jaren—no, SMii7y, stood beside him, looking over at the police officers as an ambulance finally showed itself. “The underworld has laws that we abide, but casualties do happen. It’s unavoidable, really.”

Kryoz frowned. Great. He should’ve known SMii7y worked for  _ them.  _ “This is going to be a problem.” 

“Is it?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “I thought it would be funny, John, that’s your name, right?”

Kryoz stared as they zipped the dead body into a bag and picked her up by a stretcher and into a vehicle. He didn’t find anything out. The girl was a mystery to him until the news receives the information, but Kryoz can simply dig into other people’s files and find the answers himself. It’s going to ruin his day. 

“Her soulmate died too,” SMii7y said, speaking as if they were friends.

“Soulmate?” Kryoz asked.

SMii7y nodded, his smile placid. “Yeah. When she got shot, he died in his sleep.” He looked at him, “that’s what happens with soulmates. I figured you’d know this since you were here before me.”

Kryoz shrugged. He did look at the body, but he didn’t see a mark. It stays on the body, like a strange infection that carries onward to their soulmate. A person with a similar marking that grows. Of course if one lived while the other died, than the marking will fade eventually until the other finds a new soulmate. Sometimes both die at the same time if they truly loved each other. They can feel each other’s pain, emotions, and rarely, thoughts. 

Fate in this world was a crazy thing.

“I’ve been given orders to work with you,” SMii7y said, sticking his hand out to him. 

Kryoz stared at it and mentally cursed his employees, his bosses, his warm bed that was now colder than the empty coffee cup on the cold ground. The parking lot becoming more empty as the police officers begin to leave.

With a sigh, Kryoz shakes his hand, and he noticed something a bit worse than waking up to a dead body. 

SMii7y let go of his hand. “I’ll get in contact with you in a few days when I find more information. I’m not sure if this case is good enough for us, but it is a soulmate matter, maybe I can get some people to do it for us. Until then, it was nice meeting you.” He gave him one last smile before turning away and walking down the street.

Kryoz watched him until a car came up beside SMii7y and he got in. 

He stayed rooted to the pavement, unsure of what he saw, and how he felt about it. Taking a deep sigh, he lifted his sleeve and a mark sat on the inside of his wrist. 

A slight square with a thin line going through it. He had it for several years, and now he knows why. 

SMii7y had the same marking on his wrist. He worked in the same fucking building as him, so the mark grew by the proximity.

Kryoz closed his eyes and dropped his hand to his side. “I don’t even know him.” Annoyed, Kryoz called for a car and waited on the curb, when a silver car appeared and stopped before him. He got in, told the driver where to go, and stared down at his mark for most of the ride. 

He’ll have to eventually tell SMii7y about this, or ask his boss to put a bullet inside his head before he could tell SMii7y, or he could figure out why they’re soulmates when they never met before. 

He didn’t know why he was going along with this, he didn’t want it, but he might as well see what will happen if he says nothing at all.

Soulmates. He never thought he would find his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking of writing more about SMii7y and Kryoz, and I thought of some stories for them, and this might be a part of it whenever I finish the other stories I have. Who knows, I might write it in 2019. :D
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


	18. Blank Canvas PT 2 • H2OVanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and his friends are planning to find where the rest of their friends are and to see how much more time they have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. This is part 2, I'm writing this with less description, but more emphasis of their issue. :) 
> 
> WARNING: Continuation with Part 1 of Blank Canvas. Superpower AU. Mild swears. Mild romance. Male Slash. H2OVanoss. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

_Time stopped for me. It stopped. Life became the immovable, and death the untouchable. I was in shock when it first happened, yelling at my friends and asking them if they could hear me. It wasn’t until I used up all of my energy on that first try that I had fainted. A moving chaotic blur that became a body on the floor._

Lui was the first to visit when Evan woke up. He explained what happened and Evan laughed, his relief fading out the panic that was still ringing in his head. He thought he was stuck, alone without his friends, alone without time itself.  

Lui laughed at him, a smile gracing his lips as he said, “Idiot. _You’re_ time itself. You took upon its embodiment.”

Evan’s smile slipped, unsure of what he was meant to say. He was time. Time. He can move it, speed up, slow it down, and completely stop it. The thing he couldn’t do was control it. If he wanted too, he can move fifteen minutes ahead, and see what would happen. Except, everything wrong happened, and he would be set back into the present speed. A strange concept when time was linear when it came to certain people in different timelines.

Present was now in the mind.

He could go an hour in the past but not be able to change anything. To say anything and interact with anyone. He was a figment of the mind, an invisible force looking around. And then his energy would fade, and he’d feel it in his fingertips. He had to be in certain places to see what transpired, but be careful.

It was a strange power he possessed.

He could not predict the future because it changed rapidly whenever he looked forward, and it usually went wrong anyway, as if the universe was telling him that what he held was wrong. And looking back in the past, he couldn’t save anyone.

Evan slowly closed his fingers into a fist, and back out. He did it a few times until a noise made him flinch and he glanced to the side.

Delirious walked in. “Tyler found Nogla.”

Evan nodded and stood up from the chair. He followed Delirious down the hallway and kept squeezing his fingers into a fist and out. He needed time to rid the numbness, but also the electricity stemming through the hallway when one of them were too close to each other. Their energies were strong, and they reacted to each other like magnets.

Probably the reason why he bumped shoulders with Delirious, who decided to shove him against the wall.

“Fuck off,” he said, narrowing a glare at him.

Delirious grinned, “You’re the one getting close.”

“I didn’t mean too.”

“Come on, Ev, we both know you’ve been trying for some time, no need to get defensive about—”

Evan blinked and he stared at Delirious’s smile. There was too much at stake, but these little moments is what helped Evan ignore the heat inside his chest. He leaned forward and kissed Delirious on the mouth, and he took a quick step back against the wall.

“—How you feel about me.”

“Yes,” Evan said, rolling his eyes and striding down the hall, “I love you more than time itself.”

“Does that mean you love me more than youself?” Delirious asked, confused.

What a question to consider. He didn’t like it. His hands and the power set in his body thrummed with energy.

“Who knows,” Evan replied dryly.

They entered the meeting room and found Lui standing by the window with Nogla, Tyler was sitting in one of the office chairs with his legs kicked up. Including Brock who was playing with his phone.

“So?” Evan asked, placing his hands on the back of a chair, “are we going after Terroriser?”

Lui turned, his eyes faintly glowing. “You know the location to where he’s being buried.”

“He might be already for all we know,” Tyler said.

“We have time,” Delirious said, his shoulder bumping Evan’s. “If we go now, we can even kill the ones who kidnapped the others.”

The others. They didn’t like it, too many of them were captured in the middle of the day, or even stolen from their beds, or brought to their knees during an attack. Now it was only them, and if they got this wrong, that’ll be the end of this faction of the country.

Lui turned to Nogla. “I want locations. Vanoss and Delirious can find Terroriser, I suggest a shovel in case he died.”

Vanoss nodded, his fingers numb.

“What about me and Moo?” Tyler asked.

Nogla had his eyes closed, brows knitted together, his hands hovered over objects from each of their friends. They knew what he was doing, what he could see.

“Marcel and Scotty are inside a cage…”

“Where?” Tyler asked, getting up.

“Underground somewhere. There’s water,” he wrinkled his nose, “it fucking stinks.”

“So they're in the sewer,” Moo said.

“I think we need a bit more description than a fucking sewer, Nogla.”

Nogla opened one of his eyes, “It’s what I can see.”

“Anyone else?” Lui asked.

Nogla squeezed his fingers together over a few more objects. “SMii7y and Kryoz are in a box.”

“For fuck sakes,” Tyler said, covering his face with his hands. “Who else is inside a box?”

“We should focus on looking for them,” Moo said, standing up from the chair. “Assuming they’re all dead will get us nowhere.”

Evan nodded. “He’s right.” He nudged Delirious in the side. “We’ll find Terroriser.”

Nogla dropped his hand and opened his eyes. “All I can say about the dead thing, is that they’re all not dead.” They all looked at Nogla who gave them a smile, shrugging his shoulders. “Even Terroriser. He’s not dead either.”

“Great, that’s wonderful news,” Moo said, already heading for the door. “Let’s go then.”

Evan nodded slowly, and he followed Delirious who was already striding through the door while Wildcat caught up to them.                                                          


	19. Drunk Escape PT 1 • VanLui & H2OVanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan steals beers from his fans, and they all drive off in a cramped truck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. I was looking through my trash...on my laptop for any ideas that I might've thrown out, and I saw this, and I was like, "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" and I read it, and I was confused because I never seen it before, nor have I uploaded it. 
> 
> Anyway, I think this is from drunk!me. I last edited it back in July 2017, and I recall being drunk around that time. I used to want to write drunk stories because I was an alcoholic as a teenager and into my adult years. Although, I'm stopping now because of the October Incident. :/
> 
> I barely edited it, so here, have a taste of a fic I wrote when I was drunk. LOL. 
> 
> WARNING: Alcohol consumption. Ditching fans. Drunk flirting. Platonic friends that could develop into romance(?). Swearing. Drunk driving. Mention of drugs and fighting. Friends. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are highly appreciative. :D

Evan stared at his empty can of beer and glanced around the room. They were asked to party with some fans, but it was dying down and he hadn’t drank much to feel the affect. His friends wore similar expressions, sleep building each minute until an idea popped in his head. He grinned to himself and grabbed his backpack that he brought to carry his share of the beer in, and began to fill it with cans that weren’t cracked open.

Scotty sat beside him, head leaned to the side before he arched a brow at Evan and asked, “What are you doing?”

Evan looked up, tilting his chin toward several sitting on the floor by Scotty’s feet, “Grab me the beer.”

Scotty nodded, leaning over and grasping the cans. Tyler, who sat beside him, noticed what Scotty and Evan were doing. He rolled his eyes, passing Evan two beers that sat on the table next to the couch. Scotty set the beers inside the bag as Evan glanced up to Delirious who was standing in the kitchen, cutting pieces of pizza in triangles. Several were burnt, the host wasn’t watching the oven when she started smoking up.

“Delirious,” he called, no one was paying attention. The music was loud, but Delirious turned and met his gaze.

“Grab the bottle.” A 2’6 of Vodka sat on the counter near Delirious who reached for it, taking a piece of the cut pizza and strided through the bunched up fans standing in the hall. Several were drunk and Evan could see a fight starting to break out between two girls.

Delirious passed Evan the bottle and he tucked it in the bag before zipping it up.

“What are we doing?” Delirious asked, taking another bite from his pizza as Evan slipped his arms through the straps.

“We’re getting the fuck out of here,” he turned to Scotty, “call Lui and tell him to come pick us up.”

Tyler walked past them and pushed a drunk guy out of his way. “Marcel, let’s go.”

Marcel was in one of the rooms, trying to pass out with Simone, and a group of other people on two mattresses that weren’t on a bed frame.

Scotty got off the phone, “He said he’ll be here in five minutes, he and Nogla were driving around.”

Evan nodded, and they all headed for the front door. Tyler was trying to drag both Marcel and Simone outside without getting in the way between the two girls who were in each other’s face, screaming at one another.

It was crisp when Evan stepped through the threshold and on the green painted porch, he walked down the stairs. Scotty was trying to help Tyler with Marcel.

It was about two in the morning, the street was dead, but several drunks were hanging out on the front lawn. Delirious walked to the sidewalk, looking down either road for Lui and Nogla.

A drunk girl stumbled next to Evan, she smiled, looking up at him. The stench of alcohol, and cigarette smoke clung to her. “Where are you going? Aren’t you going to stay and drink with us?”

She almost reached out to grab Evan’s arm when Nogla’s red truck pulled up, the brakes screeching.

“Come on, come on, let’s go, get in the fucking vehicle,” Nogla yelled from the truck. Delirious was already hopping in the back.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Evan sprinted toward the truck as Delirious pulled Simone in beside him, and both Tyler and Scotty were shoving Marcel in.

“Where the fuck am I sitting?” Evan asked, the truck was already full of people and he wasn’t intending to be left behind since it was _his i_ dea to steal their fans alcohol. He was sure they would eventually forgive them.

“Sit with me,” Lui said, opening the passenger door.

“Shit,” Tyler growled from the back as he slammed the door shut. “It’s fucking cramped back here.”

“It wasn’t as epic as I thought it was going to be,” Delirious muttered, Simone and Marcel’s unconscious bodies pressed against him as he turned down the window.

Evan closed the passenger door, Lui pressed against him. “Drive…and stop looking at me like that.”

Nogla had his brow arched, grinning like he knew what was up before anyone else could tell him.

“Go!” Tyler told him.

Nogla drove and the sound of the house party faded as he turned left down the street.

“Guys, I forgot to grab the pizza,” Delirious yelled as Lui turned up the music.

“We’ll get some later,” Evan reassured him.

“We didn’t think this through,” Tyler said, indicating the cramped space in the back before he pulled himself up between the driver and passenger seats, “where are we going?”

“Let’s drop Marcel and Simone off, they’re only dead weight at this point,” Scotty said.

If the cops stopped them now, it’ll be difficult to get out of this one when half of the people in the vehicle were drunk, two were passed out and none of them were possibly wearing a seatbelt, not even Nogla.

“We seriously have a death wish,” Evan said, shaking his head.

Lui scrunched his face. “Vanoss, you smell like alcohol, turn your head the other way.”

Evan laughed, butterflies fluttered easily in his chest, and the alcohol in his system washed over him in waves. “You’re the one that wanted me to sit with you.” He leaned forward and breathed on Lui who moved his head back, accidently hitting Tyler in the face.

“Quit fucking flirting,” Tyler said, wrinkling his nose and shoving Lui’s head forward.

Nogla came to an abrupt stop in front of Marcel’s house. Scotty opened the door and almost fell out, while Tyler tried waking Marcel up by lightly slapping his face. Delirious got out on his side and dragged Simone from the truck.

“Help me out,” Delirious said, and Evan slipped the bag off, passing it to Lui before crawling past Tyler to Delirious. He jumped out of the vehicle and wrapped Simone’s arm over his shoulder while Scotty was helping Tyler with Marcel.

“He has his keys, right? Or are we breaking in?” Delirious asked Tyler, scowling at Evan, “dude, your breath _does_ stink.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Evan heard Lui laughing in the truck.

Tyler dug in Marcel’s sweater, taking out his keys and tossing them at Scotty when his phone buzzed inside his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen, eyes squinting as he read the message, “Brock’s available. We can grab him once we drop off these light weights.”

Scotty pushed the door open and they piled inside. The house was dark until Scotty flicked the hallway light on.

“Pretty sure Moo is a light weight too,” Evan said as they all dragged Simone and Marcel down the hall to their bedroom. It was a large room with a king sized bed, white blankets and pillows covered it as they dropped Simone and Marcel down, Tyler covered their unconscious bodies with their blanket.

“Let’s go, they’ll be fine,” Scotty said, ushering Tyler out of the room.

“At least we didn’t leave them at that house,” Delirious said as they headed down the hall to the front door.

Evan was the first to walk outside and the first to frown at the sight of Lui and Nogla standing against the vehicle, the bag zipped open and cracked open cans in their hands.

“What the fuck?” Tyler yelled, his voice startled Evan, he didn’t seem to notice this when he stomped past him. “You’re our designated drivers, you fuck heads.”

“We’re picking up Moo anyway, he can be _all_ of our designated drivers,” Nogla said, shrugging.

Evan shook his head. “We should find a place to drink.”

“Let’s go to the beach,” Scotty suggested, they all piled back in the car. This time they had a bit more space, but Evan was squished between Delirious and Tyler. He let Lui keep his bag in front and asked for a beer. They all opened one as they drove down the street.

“I want pizza,” Delirious said, turning down the window and letting the cool air inside the vehicle.

“Let’s go get pizza, then,” Tyler said, kicking at the back of Nogla’s seat and almost skimming Evan’s knee.

The beer tasted like metal, warm and strange on his tongue, it was disgusting but he drank it anyway. Lui turned up the music as they all chilled out until Nogla sped up down a narrow alley.

“Holy shit,” Delirious screeched, pushing against Evan and almost spilling their drinks.

“Nogla, you’re not even drunk yet,” Scotty said, a laugh falling from his lips.

Evan laughed while Lui managed to get Nogla to straighten out his driving before he made a sharp turn on a busy road, another turn in a parking lot before a pizza place. He stopped with a loud screech on the brakes and managed to get everyone to glare at him and pile out.

“Fucking Nogla,” Tyler said, pushing past Evan and Delirious and grabbing the keys from him. “I’ll drive.”

“You’re no better off than the others,” Nogla said, scowling.

“I may have alcohol in my system, but I’m not worse than _you_.” For once, Nogla relented and they all headed inside.

Evan shuddered as he took out his wallet and ordered for the others while they all plopped down in separate booths. Staring at their phones. He got deluxe just because Tyler messaged him before anyone else could say what they wanted.

Delirious stood beside him, hands tucked in his pockets, he was looking up at the menu, his dark hair was a bit messy, eyes drowned in melancholy while the curve of his lips were in a frown. He looked calmer than usual, but there was obviously something on his mind. “I asked Luke if he wanted to meet us at the beach.”

“What did he say?” Evan asked, leading him to their own booth and they both sat across from one another.

Delirious shrugged. “He said he’s busy tonight.” He took out his wallet and passed it to Evan who furrowed his brows, confused. “It’s to pay for half the pizza.”

Evan nodded, taking the money. “Maybe he’ll come drink with us tomorrow.”

Delirious grinned, “If we drink tomorrow.”

“It’s the summer,” Tyler said, turning his head to look at him from the booth behind Evan, “what else are we going to do but get drunk.”

“Brian wants to drink with us,” Scotty said, waving his phone at them.

“Who told him we were drinking?” Lui asked.

Tyler shook his head, “Probably Moo. We’re going to need a bigger car.”

Nogla slammed his hands down on the table. “No. We use mine.”

“It’s not even big enough,” Tyler said, the others chuckled.

Evan twisted around in his seat, pressing his hands on the back. It was cold to the touch, but nice. “Drop us off at the beach after we grab the pizza, and pick up Moo and Brian.”

“We might need more alcohol,” Lui said.

It wasn’t a problem with any of them as they all placed a few chip-ins in the pile. Tyler folded the money and tucked it in his pocket. “I’ll grab the two idiots and pick up. Should be easy with them than the rest of you.”

Evan turned around, smiling at Delirious. The night was going great, but what they all wouldn’t know is that some good things end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I don't think Evan and his friends would get bored of their fans, I think drunk!me was being an asshole. :/
> 
> It was also labeled, "Stealing Beer." < a fucking period ffs...I don't add those to my files because it's unnecessary to me. I think Drunk!Me deleted it when she realized she shouldn't be uploading drunk fics to encourage others to drink. But this was too funny to not upload. LOL. (Please don't drink and drive...or get high while driving.)
> 
> Drunk!me also like Vanoss x Lui, and H2ovanoss. LOL. I love both ships btw. :D SO I'm happy nothing changed that much.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


	20. What Now? • H2oVanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan is ordered to take out a betrayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uploaded this on Tumblr, and decided to upload it on here as well. :/ Read my attempt! Haha! I suck at writing romance. Oh my Gosh! D: 
> 
> Rihanna - What Now.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

He was staring. He knew he was staring, and he couldn’t stop. His cheeks warmed and his heart raced while he flexed his hands. He wasn’t even bothered by the cold wind whipping against him as he stood on the ledge of the building.

“Evan. Evan?...Evan!” He was pulled from his thoughts and touched his comm that was tucked in his ear.

“Uh, yeah?”

“What the fuck are you doing? Daydreaming?”

Evan glanced around the empty roof. A case sat on the ground, it was opened to an empty socket that once held the parts to his gun. “Something like that,” he responded, checking the gun in his hand before getting into position on the roof.

“Will get your fucking head out of the clouds,” Tyler said, sounding tense, “we got a job to do.”

Yeah. Maybe that was the problem. He didn’t want to do this, an assassination was too easy, but assassinating a friend. He didn’t even know what to think about that. He was a little nervous as he looked into the scope and stared at the target. He was able to see him more clearly and he tried to calm his thoughts before he got distracted again.

“Do we have to do this?” he asked.

“Yes. He’s a traitor,” Tyler said, letting out a sigh. “Just shoot him, Evan, and then we can head home.”

Evan turned off the comm and held the gun, taking off the safety, finger hovering over the trigger. He licked his dry lips, and wondered when this all went to shit, but maybe if he wasn’t so damn obvious about the whole thing, then Evan wouldn’t be staring at him through a scope.

“Okay...one shot...that’s all I need,” he murmured, heart racing, an ugly feeling stirred in his stomach. Stupid dark soft hair, and soft face that he used to press his lips too. He always wore the blue sweater during and outside of work. It was ridiculous, yet Evan liked the smell of it at times when he’d wash it.

Papers, papers, papers. He was handing over documents, the blinds slightly hindering Evan’s perception, but he kept him in sight as much as he could.

“Why couldn’t I kiss you before you decided to cross the line?” Evan asked, a lump in his throat, tears built up before one run down his cheek, he wiped it away and sucked in a breath. “I have to do this. You betrayed us...betrayed me.”

He didn’t, not exactly. Maybe he was in denial, it’s not like he bothered to tell him he was doing this.

“I love you.” And Evan pulled the trigger, getting up right away at the sharp sound of broken glass. He took the gun apart and placed it back into the case, pressing his fingers against the clasps and picking it up. He didn’t look back, wiping away tears as he headed for the stairs that led all the way down to the parking garage where he left his bike.

Evan blinked away tears, angry with himself. “I hate this,” he said, tucking the case into a bag and pulling it on, almost about to get onto the bike when he heard the slightest sound of feet scuffing the ground, and a breath in the still cold air.

He turned, gun already in his hand as he pointed it. Evan gritted his teeth, hand tightening on the grip.

“You fucked that up,” he said, a gun trained on Evan. “Why did they send you?”

Evan shrugged, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

A grin made its way onto his face, one Evan knew was sarcastic. “It does, Vanoss, they know and they sent you.”

“You betrayed us,” Evan said, watching him step closer.

Shaking his head, “I barely scratched the surface and already they think it’s betrayal.” He laughed, a sound so heartwarming that it ached in Evan’s chest. He always sounded like some insane man ready for a massacre. He found his thrill in chaos, but this was different, it was too silent, barely a heartbeat between them.

“I love you,” Evan said, watching him coming to a stop, “and you betrayed us!”

“I didn’t do this to hurt you—”

Evan scoffed. “Fuck off. You did, and didn’t think twice about it.”

He began to walk closer, his own gun still trained on Evan. “Then why did you shoot the wrong person?” he asked.

Evan gritted his teeth. The bullet had gone through the window and the body wasn’t his, but the person he was giving the documents too. Amateur shot. A mistake, but one Evan wouldn’t have made.

“I love you,” Evan dropped the hand that held the gun. “Why would I kill you for them? You betrayed me, and I don’t hate you for it. I love you too much.”

“And I love you,” he said, standing so close that all Evan could think about was that this mission was stupid, and he didn’t fight when Jonathan wrapped his arms around him, and pulled him into a kiss. It was all so stupid, but he loved him, and everything else didn’t matter.


	21. Insomnia • H2oVanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan is insomniac, and he goes to see Jonathan in the early morning to have coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure what I wanted this to be, but there was a kind of idea for Ghost Town, a setting in mind. So, I decided to figure out some of it in this story. :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

Insomnia was an ugly thing to swallow.

A reason to close one's eyes and find peace, yet not able too. A burning sensation around the eye, a sense to do something more to pass the time. To find it in others, and seek it with both hands, hoping it could be the answer he was looking for.

Simple words in a simple world for a simple person.

The silence echoes around him, yet there’s the faint sound of cars driving by, small whispers from people standing on their porches, or from their open windows, or even when they walk by him. The silence follows until he’s standing in the empty parking lot of an old gas station with its dark windows, posters plastered on the sides, and a phone booth by the edge of the sidewalk.

He takes out a few coins from his pocket, even though he has his phone, he deposits the coins and dials a number he knows by memory. The handle is cold, and he keeps the phone from touching his ear.

The phone is answered on its second ring, which is a lot more surprising than the last time his friend Nogla phoned and the guy didn’t even bother to answer. Sometimes he has the thought that maybe he likes him a lot more than others, but he doesn’t want that rattling in his head for too long.

“Hello?” he asked, yawning.

“Hey,” he says, leaning against the booth, placing his head on the side, “what are you doing?”

“Sleeping...what are you doing?”

“Came back from Tyler’s.”

“Is he partying?”

“No, Mini is, with others.”

“So he is.”

Evan closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. “I didn’t want to stay. What are you doing?” Besides sleeping, he doesn’t feel a single ounce of regret that he bothered his friend’s sleep.

“Wondering where you are,” he says.

“I’m at a gas station.”

“Do you want me to come get you?”

Evan wonders if that is what he wants, but it’s difficult when the sky is so dark, and there’s no star in sight. It’s strange looking at a void. “No. I don’t think you’ll find me.”

“Are you sure? I can come get you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, talk to you later, Evan.”

He hangs up, and stands next to the phone booth, and while he stands, the darkness shifts and he takes out his phone as the numbers start to move in a fast rhythm until the sun appears in the horizon, followed by a fog.

He leaves the parking lot and walks down the street until he finds another convenient store, this one was open and he walks inside, down the aisle until he picks up a can of coffee and pays for it. The short blonde cropped haired girl looks at him with an indifferent expression, blowing out a pink bubble from her lips as Evan walks out with the bag in hand.

Evan dials another number and in the next twenty minutes, a white cab pulls up and he gets in, he tells the driver the address and stares out the window at the passing fog, at the people with blank faces and distorted outcomes, and soon the cab stops in front of an old washed out tan color with a brown roof. He pays the driver and leaves the cab, walks up to the front door and knocks.

He teeters back and forth on his feet until the door opens and his friend looks at him with bleary eyes. “What the fuck? Evan? What are you doing here?”

He smiles, lifts the bag and shows him the coffee. “Make me some, I’m cursed with insomnia.”

“Okay,” Jonathan murmurs, letting Evan into the house. The kitchen is small with a small table, three chairs, light streams in through a thin curtain as Evan pulls out a chair and sits down.

Jonathan is wearing a simple blue shirt and black shorts, his hair is mussed, and he’s still trying to wake up as he takes Evan’s coffee. “What were you doing all night?”

“Waiting for the sun to rise,” Evan answers simply, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Are you still doing that thing…?” Jonathan asked, filling the coffee maker with water and closing the lid once he added the coffee into the filter.

“What thing?” Evan asked, grinning at Jonathan as he turns around.

“You know…fuck, I hate saying it, it’s weird.”

“You think everything is weird.”

Jonathan rubs his eye. “Yeah, but this is also weird. Did you even sleep?”

“You know I don’t sleep.”

“Makes sense, you look like shit.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”

Jonathan doesn’t say anything else, he’s thinking which should take some time, and Evan gives it to him until the coffee is finished. He sets a full mug down in front of him, including a small mason jar of sugar and silver spoon. Jonathan sits with him, his own coffee included.

“Is that why you left Tyler’s? Because you saw something, or sensed something, and you didn’t want to stay anymore?”

Evan focuses on the sugar as he spills in two teaspoons and stirs. “I think it’s more than that, but I’m not sure.”

“You’re not? Aren’t you always sure about these types of things?” Jonathan asked, frowning at him. He’s always smiling, strange and weird, yet during early mornings like this, Evan sees the creature he becomes, the one that frowns and is less hyped up with sugar in his veins. He’s more sleep addled with sunlight streaming along his dark strands of hair and sunkissed skin.

It makes him want things he can’t have because of what’s in his own cells that doesn’t allow him touch.

“You ever want to set a city on fire?” Evan asked, slowly adding more sugar watching the crystals fall into the dark void of his coffee, sunlight allowing them to twinkle.

“Besides taking psychedelics in a library, sure,” Jonathan said, taking the spoon from Evan and adding his own sugar.

“I think in different timelines,” Evan picks up the coffee and the edge barely touches his lips, he smells the strong scent and it fills him up, “we’d be married.”

“I wouldn’t mind marrying you,” Jonathan says, stirring his own coffee.

Evan stares at him, knowing in all honesty that this is the moment that makes him the most beautiful. An early morning love that tastes exactly like the sweetness of coffee, and bitterness burning his tongue. It’s love upon the senses that allows Evan to return and return and return.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Evan says simply, setting the mug down and looking at Jonathan for a reaction.

He doesn’t get much. Jonathan glances at him and arches both brows, as if trying to seem surprised, but too tired to put in the effort. “You want to go back to sleep?”

“I don’t sleep.”

“Getting to the point then.”

“Shut up,” Evan says, shaking his head and trying to hide his smile with his cup.

“You want to watch _me_ sleep?” Jonathan asked, grinning at him before taking a sip of his coffee. The action itself is also gentle to Evan’s profound annoyance. He usually doesn’t want to hate people, but finding their dislikes and irritations is a good enough reason, but Evan keeps finding ones he likes about Jonathan.

“Sure,” Evan says sarcastically, “I’ll even write poetry about how much I love your snoring, and saying my name in your sleep, and the rumpled blankets, and thin streams of light touching your hair and closed eyelids. I’ll even sketch out every position you move in just to pass the time, and when you wake up, I’ll show you everything I wrote and drew.”

Jonathan’s nodding absentmindedly. “Okay, sure, you do that. I don’t think I snore though.”

“I’ll find out.”

They drink their coffee, and once they’re finished, they get up and Evan follows Jonathan down the hall to his bedroom. He already took off his coat and dropped it at the foot of the bed before crawling onto the mattress where Jonathan placed an arm over his head, and a hand on his stomach. He closes his eyes, and looks like he’s about to sleep.

“You’re making it too easy to draw you,” Evan says, taking out his phone and manages to take a photo.

“Yeah,” Jonathan rolled closer to Evan, slowly opened his eyes, “maybe I want to seduce you.”

“You did that a long time ago,” Evan tells him, taking another picture, “with your stupid laughs and ideas and—” Jonathan grabbed his arm and pulled his hand down before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Evan’s, it was a short soft yet sweet kiss, and then he pulls back and lets out a sigh.

“Yeah, same here,” he says, closing his eyes once more.

Evan stares, his eyes wide before he abandons his phone to the side and places a hand on Jonathan’s side, looking down at him. “ _That_ was our first kiss?”

“I’m not really a romantic,” Jonathan answers, his eyes still closed. “Unless you want to go to Paris and we can have dinner at dusk, then I’ll kiss you.”

“I’ll actually be expecting a ring.”

“No. I’ll wait until the morning to give you that, you know, after we have sex.”

“You mean love?”

“Yeah, that too.”

Evan rolls his eyes and kisses Jonathan again, barely moving away. “You’re an idiot.”

Jonathan opens his eyes and smiles. “An idiot who loves you.”

And yeah, maybe his insomnia brought him to this point, every moment when he travels into other splintered alters and yet here is, with someone who has said it. Finally something that isn’t a joke, not a lie.

Evan lies down next to Jonathan as he slowly falls asleep. “You know, I never did tell you that it was a type of curse, right?”

“A curse?” Jonathan murmurs, his hand finding Evan’s.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if it’ll stick, but if I sleep…”

“Uh huh,” Jonathan turns his body and leans into Evan, “I’ll wake you up and we can have pizza together.”

Evan smiles, closing his eyes. “Sure, okay, we can have pizza.”

_I love him. More than anything, and I’m tired of seeing the same person becoming someone else, but death usually followed after, and I hate when I wake after the sunrises, and when the sunsets, time resets, becomes something more and something less in my waking days._

Insomnia was easy to digest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's implied what Evan is, and this might be a start of a new story in the future, hopefully anyway. I've been trying to write romance more, at least be more familiar with it, and not say I suck writing it, but I do. So I'm practicing. :D I also didn't want to clog it up, so I freely wrote the dialogue so it can flow without damaging the rest of the description.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


	22. Wristband • H2oVanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a date, but Evan knows better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Back in the middle of March, I was going to commit suicide. I guess those thoughts never really leave me, and my voices are assholes when I was so close to doing it. They encouraged me, and I kept telling them to shut up until I couldn't do it. I was drinking and I did slide, and I just felt so depressed that I laid on the couch while my drunk uncle played music as we sat in the dark. :/ Maybe it was somehow cathartic, although dangerous. I haven't tried since, but the thoughts do come up. 
> 
> Sorry for the tmi.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, mostly it's just me trying to find catharsis. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

The world seeped into darkness as the setting sun stayed gold in the horizon, barely seen beyond the tall washed out buildings. Evan took out his cellphone vibrating from within his jacket pocket and was surprised to see the name before answering it.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Outside of a convenient store,” Evan answered, taking a sip from his fountain drink.

“Okay, good, I have a bottle of Smirnoff.”

Evan frowned, it’s not really what he was expecting to hear. “What does alcohol have to do with my drink?”

“It doesn’t, drink your damn pop, and I’ll pick you up and we can drink this damn bottle.”

“Just the two of us?” Evan asked, walking toward the side of the street and looking down either way.

“Yeah, let’s call it a date.”

Evan rolled his eyes, “Where are we going on this _date_ of ours?” he asked, heading left toward the corner street, looking both ways before crossing.

“Somewhere nice.”

“How romantic.”

“Shut up, tell me exactly where you are and I’ll come pick you up.”

Evan sighed and told his friend where he was and stopped in front of a house, rocking back and forth on his feet while waiting, at the same time drinking the fountain drink he bought for himself.

A dark blue car turned around the corner, Evan winced at the loud screech upon the asphalt as it left a black skid mark. His brows knitted together as the car came a crawl until his friend waved at him with a wide smile from the driver’s side of the car, he wasn’t wearing a coat, which was fine, it was nice out. He seemed almost...disheveled.

“Yo.”

“Yo, yourself, where the hell are we going?” Evan asked, getting into the passenger’s seat.

“Like I said, somewhere nice.”

“If you don’t tell me—” he jerked forward when the car left the curb, and he glared at his friend, “where the fuck we are going, I can get out.”

“I’d like to watch you roll onto the road,” he replied, chuckling.

“I’ll throw my drink at you first, and you’ll have to wipe your damn car down.”

“Better than wiping off blood, asshole. Now shut up and drink the rest of your pop, we’ll be there soon.”

It’s only natural his friend would run wild with his rapid thoughts. He rarely let anything bother him, not the mistakes that made him eager to make more, or even the traumatizing rot that left him stumbling back towards his car. Somehow this guy always seems to have a tight hold on his car keys. He was eager for the sun to set, and for the night to rise. A crazy man like this, sometimes Evan asked himself how he became friends with him, but the answer itself always seems to elude itself from him.

He drove him to a large hill overlooking the glinting glass city, and grooves of open streets as the sky changes to a peach while the sky bleeds a deep ocean blue. He parks and they get out of the car that smells of strong gas, new even, and Evan asked if he got the premium kind.

“I can only use it for this kind of car,” he says, pointing at the new car he bought a month ago after the other one accidentally slammed into another car. He cried when he learned they were going to destroy it. It was almost ridiculous, but he held his friend who curled up into a ball beside him. Now he seems to like the new one better than the last, but he did confess he also loved the last.

He waved the bottle at Evan and they sat down on the grass, pushing it down and waving away mosquitos before he cracked the bottle open.

“What have you been doing all day?” he asked, starting up the idle conversation before taking a swig and passing it to Evan.

“Nothing much,” he answered, staring down at the bottle and feeling apprehensive. “Do we always have to drink?”

“This is the first time we drank in weeks, don’t be a bitch and hurry up and take a sip already.”

Evan scowled at him and took a quick swig. Burning cold alcohol filled his mouth before he passed it back, and his friend laughed at him.

“How do you feel about burning the city?” he asked, and he almost sounds serious, and Evan looks to make sure, and he can see his smile and his eyes, blazing colors upon the blue like the sky. A reflection of orange and yellow in fair colors upon his light tone skin, he’s completely relaxed, but there’s also something else that’s bothered Evan as he looks down to his wrist where not even his coat hid the wrist band. “Do you ever feel like becoming an entire forest?”

“Not really,” Evan says, looking away. “Do you feel that way?”

“Sometimes,” he whispers, taking another swig and passing it back to Evan.

He stares down at it, wondering what he’s supposed to do, or what he’s supposed to say. It’s clear why they’re here and where he had come from before calling Evan. He was going to ask about it, but it seemed too personal. And maybe that isn’t the point of it being personal, he had made it public knowledge for years, and Evan only wanted to help him like the rest of their friends.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Not really, but I want to stay here forever, in this space where no one can harm us, and I don’t have to hear unwanted things anymore.”

Evan slowly nodded as the sun was slowly dipping underneath the horizon and darkness slowly reigned the sky. “We can stay however long you want.”

He smiled, turning his head and looking at Evan. “You’re not going to ask.”

“You could’ve called before, I would’ve picked you up.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

“And what happened after you got discharged?”

“Went looking for some money for a bottle.”

Evan’s heart raced, and it hurt, a sharp pain that followed with numerous of not so innocent thoughts. “Were you even going to call me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jonathan…”

“I’m fine,” he answered, shaking his head, taking the bottle from Evan. “I’m fine. I wasn’t going to do anything.”

Evan let out a sigh, and said, “Do you want to come back to my place?”

“So you can watch me?”

“So we can watch TV, play some games, go to sleep and do it all over again in the morning,” Evan said, watching Jonathan take another swig from the bottle.

Jonathan took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

“You’re not going to run off.”

“No, I won’t run off.” Jonathan passed him the bottle. “Why would I run from you?”

“You tried once.”

“I was high.”

“Don’t blame the fucking drugs.”

Jonathan laughed and rose to his feet, helping Evan up and then embracing him. It wasn’t exactly sudden, it happened before, and Evan didn’t mind. He gripped the bottle Jonathan no longer wanted to hold and helped him back to the car. Taking the keys from him, Jonathan sat in the passenger seat while Evan started the car.

“Before we go,” Evan said, glancing at Jonathan who was leaned against the door, holding the bottle in his hand. “Were you going to do it?”

“Yeah, I was.”

Evan nodded, and he started up the car and left the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea came to me about the whole suicide thing, and also when my sister tried to commit suicide back in Dec, and when I was a teenager and they'd release me after two other suicide attempts, and I didn't have a phone at the time, so I had to walk down a street with bandages on my arms and legs, and the hospital wrist band around my wrist until my mom found me. :/ 
> 
> Anyway, I guess I like to vent. 
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


	23. A Dream of Apathy • H2OVanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild under the silver stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. I know I haven't updated this story in some time. I wanted to write something simple, so here it is! :D 
> 
> H2oVanoss.
> 
> Warning: Poetry? Hints of vampirism. AU.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

He swallowed rain water in late night mist. He woven the concrete roads with open veins, blood splatter, and tangled roots. He lived with no self control and fed the monster clawing his insides. He grew wild under silver stars. His bones becoming weary, his mind following its tired hollow thoughts. He laid upon the cold pavement, and smiled at the darkness above where the light would never touch him. 

He believed that was the truth. 

The lightning storm, the ache, the swallow of flame on his tongue. He reached out for that world, that tainted place he yearned with each beat of his racing heart. 

_ PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, TAKE ME HOME! TAKE ME BACK TO HIM! _

He would do anything to return to the place where his soul remained. In other worlds, he did not live like normal people. The normalcy of their hearts grew faint in his own. He had lost parts of himself in the journey between, and now he hoped that by the sun rise, he could become ash and drift away.

A dream of apathy.

“What are you doing?” the voice broke him from his thoughts, from the tears rising in his eyes, from his broken heart that had slowly torn apart. He twisted on the ground, his teeth throbbed, but there was something there that was natural in its form, not the hunger that ached in his throat, but the sight of the one who spoke. 

Frantic. He was starving. Heat pooled in his body as much as the summer sun soaks the damp ground. This was different, alive without its destruction, a peace without its war. A heart filled with hope. 

“Delirious?” 


	24. Static Noise • H2OVanoss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delirious wakes in an unknown place, unsure of how he got there, and his voices are acting up and making him paranoid and doubting his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another H2oVanoss fic, except it's leaning away from romance, but it has a hint of it. :D
> 
> Warning: Psychosis. Auditory hallucinations. Visual Hallucinations. Paranoid thoughts. Friendship. Best friends. Mild self-harm mention. Hint of romance. Gaslighting.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

He didn’t mean for it to happen. It simply did. He sat on the curb of the sidewalk, rocking back and forth, laughing nervously to himself. It always happened, and it wasn’t his fault. Sometimes he blacked out, sometimes he walked for a long time and woke up in a place he didn’t fully recognize. Sometimes he even had his phone with him, but this time, he had nothing on him, he wasn’t sure why that was. Did he forget it? Did someone take it from him?

_ Far...away… _

Delirious rocked back and forth, the first of them made him shaky, and worse, paranoid. He didn’t know why they made him paranoid. He felt it all the time when they were close to him, wrapped around his head as if they’re mocking him for how he feels, or where he is. 

_ Gone. Jonathan...where did you go? Where...did you go? Jonathan. Jonathan. _

Delirious laughed to stop himself from being scared. Humor helped, but he knew music helped more. Except he didn’t have his phone. Nothing was going to help him this time and he didn’t know where they took him. Or where any of his friends were. They always calmed his nerves, and the things inside his head.

_ Jonathan...you have to go home, they’re watching you, and soon they’ll come after you. _

“No one’s watching me,” he whispered, getting up from the curb while wringing his hands in front of him. He still had his blue sweater, and that gave him a small comfort to the cold morning. It was morning, right?

_ They’re coming after you. Run. Run. Run! _

“No,” Jonathan shook his head and letting out a shaky breath, “no one’s coming after me, you’re lying again. Stop lying to me you fucking bastards!”

_ Are you sure you’re not lying to yourself? They’re coming after you.  _

There were days when the voices were louder, much more echoes inside his head. They turned him against his own friends. And when he tried to listen to his friends, the voices would be louder, much more louder. It was difficult to tell anyone about this, and because of his fear about how ridiculous it was, he kept it from them. 

It was better to keep it a secret. It’s not like they should know anything about it. It’s not like it matters. He can deal with it on his own, without his friends. At least he hoped he could, but it still scared him. 

_ Jonathan. _

“Shh...shut the fuck up,” he said as he glanced down an empty street, still wringing his hands to keep himself calm. 

He didn’t know how his friend’s would take it. It was hard to swallow, like a pill, regret, hate towards someone in the same room, or even the disappointment in others. He didn’t want to face his friend’s and see the pain on their faces when he didn’t tell them anything. And maybe that was his own lost chance in telling them the truth. Maybe they’ll understand. 

_ They’re coming for you.  _

Whispers he didn’t want to believe, he knew they were liars, they always were. Speaking through his phone when it wasn’t on, in the radio in his car, his comm inside his ear when they went out for missions and they pretended to be his friends. 

A death sentence.

That was what Tyler had said when he yelled at him, and Delirious sputtered out a lie to cover up the mistake. He couldn’t believe them, and because of that, sometimes he couldn’t even believe his own friends. 

It was static. 

Static.

Oh, fuck, and it was getting worse inside his ears. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Evan has asked him after Tyler stalked off with the others. He wasn’t as annoyed as Tyler, but it was clear on his face that he couldn’t believe Delirious would step into danger like he had. 

In his anxiety induced panic, he told Evan why he did it. 

“Static noise,” he whispers once in the comm that was directed to Evan.

“It’s okay, I’m coming to get you,” he replied, “stay on the line with me.”

Broken glass, a flickering light, his hand was bloody from smashing it where it laid at his feet like diamonds. His voice was soothing in his ear when he closed his eyes. 

Is that the reason why he was alone on the street with shoes that were tied, and his sweater that was wrapped around him. He was far away from the voice that mattered to him the most. 

_ Jonathan, run, they’re coming for you, you have to run! They’re watching you. _

He kept walking down the hollow street, eyes rimmed red, his mind burnt, and he focused more on his breathing than the paranoid thoughts. 

What if they are watching them? Who are they anyways? He didn’t know what the voices were talking about exactly. It scared him anyways. Were they truly coming after him? Was it because of the mistakes he made?

_ They aren’t real. _

Jonathan stopped in the middle of the road when he was walking across it. His heart squeezed and the breath in his lungs burned his throat. 

“No, you’re liars, all of you are fucking lying to me.”

_ They aren’t real. Shhh...Jonathan...where are you? Where are you going? They aren’t real.  _

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” Jonathan whispered, placing his shaky hands to his head as if to cover it from the voices, from rain that wasn’t falling, to the paranoia inside him that repeated its belief. Was he being followed?

_ They’re watching you… _

Jonathan opened his eyes and he was still alone on the street. There was no cars, no people, and the sun was slowly ascending into the sky. He kept walking, hoping the voices would stop talking. He needed to get back to his friends. 

There were days when the world seemed inverted. Empty spaces. Everyone he came across would be blurred out while the voices sometimes wavered their contempt for him. It made them happy that they could scare his belief in people and life. That the blood wasn’t enough, nor was Evan’s presence when he was close by. 

The paranoia is rot in the skin, in the pores of his mind where the thoughts trickle out like echoes. He hoped to rub it clean with clear water and soap, with heat and ice, with a knife or the edge of a broken mirror. He wanted them to stop, and the only way to do that was to cut out the root. 

The voices were insistent upon his self-destruction. If only he tried to fight it a couple of times, but the heady taste of alcohol drowned them out, even the kiss of a stranger under a yellow light could never stop it from whispering inside his ear. 

And now, he had no idea what he was doing in a place as empty as this. Was it even real to begin with? 

Was any of it real?

_ Run. They’re getting closer. You can’t see them, but they can see you. _

More static in his ears, more voices telling him lies, but why is he sprinting down the street and swallowing cold morning air between dry lips. 

“Evan, Evan, Evan, Evan,” he whispered a soft salvation on his tongue, the one thing that made sense in all the persistent chill lingering on his skin, close to a knife edge about to break the first layer.

A figure appears around the corner, and the voices draw close to him but the whispering is too much, a cluster that barely makes any sense to him. 

_ It’s not him. That’s not him. Don’t believe it. A shadow. A monster. A liar. Becoming a form of itself. A liar. A liar.  _

“Evan,” he calls out, and he’s elated, he wants to laugh while his chest fills up with relief.

He waves, and wavers as he draws close. “They’re coming for you,” he says, “why did you leave? Where did you go?” 

Delirious blinks, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Evan stares wide eyed at him. “Did you know they’re coming for you. I can hear them coming for you. They’ve been following you, Delirious. They know you’re here.”

Delirious sucks in a breath, one that’s shaky, and fills up his body as he tenses. “No. You’re not real. You’re a lie. They created a lie.”

“What are you talking about? Did you know they were after you?” Evan asked, smiling. 

He stepped away, his mind had smeared that safety in front of his reality. The glass not looking the same anymore. And the voices have gone quiet enough that he can’t hear them anymore. “You’re a lie, how long have you been a lie.” He wants to cry out, his chest hurts too much, filled up with fear of his reality shattering in front of him. 

Have they conspired against him?

He twists around and sprints away from Evan. He’s not there, he was never there, and his voices were liars again. That’s all they are. A bunch of a liars. 

He sits on the curb of a street once he knows he’s alone. And he isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. Maybe it would be best to lose his mind to the voices, to the paranoid thoughts, to the people who walk in and out of his own reality.

Delirious wipes away a stray tear and stays sitting on the pavement until the sun fully rises. There are more cars, more people, and he’s not sure how long he’s been there, but it must be awhile until he hears a screech on the road, followed by a group of cursing as a door slams shut. 

“Delirious!” 

_ They’re not real...they’re a fake…all of them are fake. Don’t believe them. _

Someone kneels before him in a rush, their hands grip his shoulders, stopping Delirious from rocking back and for? We’ve been looking for you this entire time,” he says, a familiar voice in that same familiar sarcastic tone. 

Delirious raises his eyes at Evan, staring hard at him as he smiles, but there’s also a tinge of worry. 

Delirious nods, leaning closer, and whispers, “Static noise.” 

Evan understands, and helps Delirious to his feet. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

“What if you’re not real?” Delirious asked, letting Evan lead him toward a car sitting in the middle of the road that was blocking a few more cars. Brian and Brock are inside, both staring at them from the driver and passenger seat. 

“If we weren’t, we wouldn’t be here,” Evan answered, helping him in the car and sitting with him in the back. “Don’t worry, Delirious, we’re here, we’re real, and we’re not going to let you wander off again.”

Delirious nodded, closing his eyes. 

The noise stopped as Brian starts up the car and drives off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have psychosis if no one knew that. So, sometimes I like writing about characters experiencing it. :) I got this idea when Delirious was playing Layers of Fear 2 and there were voices involved. He freaks out a lot in horror, which is understandable. And yes, my voices are somewhat like this. They gaslight me when I'm in a psychotic episode.
> 
> (This hasn't been edited, I was too lazy.)
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


End file.
